


Golden

by bukkunkun



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, Dubious Science, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Flirting, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Mild Blood, Military, Non-Explicit Sex, Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Politics, Seduction, Space Opera, Space Pirates, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural Elements, Transformation, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-05 04:38:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 22
Words: 63,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15162845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: Ricki knows that somewhere out there, the land that no one has ever stepped foot on waits for her to find. What started as a simple dream quickly turned into something much bigger than she could have ever imagined, and soon, she finds the rest of the galaxy on her heels in her quest to find the hegemony of the cosmos—Neverwhere, the source of all power, the heart of the universe.





	1. Golden

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm Ryan (or bukkun if you're still not used to using that name LMAO) and welcome to my 100th fic on the Archive, and my first original work published on the internet, ever! This was a winner of the 2017 NaNoWriMo, and now you all get to see it in its (softly edited) glory for the first time ever! 
> 
> Constructive crit is appreciated, but please do so privately through either twitter (@trickscd), or my emails (bk.bukkun@ymail.com or yanyansalamanca@gmail.com)!
> 
> To my friends and readers who've asked me to write something original, this is it. ~~get ready for regret time~~
> 
> Updates weekly on Wednesdays!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A star is born, and she saves a life in the process.

It was the fourth of July.

“I’m sorry to tell you this on such a short notice, but it’s a holiday, and we had to get it done soon before everyone else left.”

She forced a smile on her face, and her cheeks felt stiff. Painful, like they haven’t moved a single time for years.

“No, it’s fine.” She replied, and she squeezed her necklace’s amethyst crystal pendant reflexively. “Thank you, anyway.”

The funeral was held near the break of dawn, in a lonely, quiet service for three—Nick, the pastor, and the manager from the funeral homes. It had been on such short notice, they said—because they lacked a funeral plan, and had no means to buy anything more decent, they had to settle with ending the wake prematurely—before it even began.

There was no eulogies said. No one came to mourn the death of a blind-drunk, depressed, almost-homeless woman.

No one came to sympathise with her distraught, broke and lonely daughter.

It was over as quickly as it began, and somehow the arduous hours Nick spent by her mother’s side in the hospital, toiling away in three different loveless jobs trying to scrape together whatever she could for the bills.

The dialysis. Life support. Confinement. The funeral and its preparations.

Her mother was buried the way she lived—nameless, forgotten. Silent, and dead.

The last pieces of evidence of her life on earth were two things—one, her daughter Nick Lee, and two, the large amethyst stone pendant she wore around her neck.

The patch of earth was covered with grass, and the rest of the day rolled on.

It was the fourth of July.

A day of freedom, a day when people stopped man’s daily toil to celebrate and be free and joyous—

But not Nick.

Day bled into night, and her preparations for her own July 4th were underway.

* * *

The fireworks were already flying, and the wind was cold against her skin as she stood on the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge. San Francisco never slept, the roads and bridges throbbing with life and light and the rumble of cars, but from where she should, no one could see her.

No one would miss her. When she was gone, then there was absolutely nothing of her mother or herself left on this painful planet.

As reds and blues and greens dotted the sky, setting alight phosphorescent chemicals that bled into black like ink in water, San Francisco stopped to watch colours dance across the sky.

Her feet were cold against the red metal. It bled through her thin, threadbare sneakers, and she knew it would only get worse.

Hell, her life had been anything but a steady progression of worse to worst.

Nick closed her eyes, and took a shaky breath.

It was the fourth of July, and in the very least, the last thing she would see would be fireworks.

Starbursts of red, green, yellow, and gold—blooming across the sky as if welcoming her into the sweet embrace of the next life.

She leant forward, feeling gravity beginning to take her down, down, down—

When a hand caught her wrist, and she turned to see a man’s wide eyes at her, his chest heaving in panicked breaths. He was wearing a messy uniform—a nurse’s mint green scrubs, and his face mask hung from his chin, flapping in the wind of the ocean breeze.

“Don’t.” He gasped, and she blinked at him.

He was a stranger. She was a stranger.

And yet—

Her wrist slipped from his hand and he lunged forward to grab it properly.

“ _Don’t._ ” His voice sounded strained from the effort of keeping her up—keeping her _alive._ The wind howled around them, and it felt like the world came to a stop for the both of them. It wasn’t some slow, eventual slide into calm, kind stillness—it was the halting screech to a halt, the machinations of the universe screeching to a discordant, terrifying halt.

“Please,” the stranger pleaded. “Don’t give up. You have so much to live for. Don’t do this.”

Muted in the background, golden starbursts continued to burn and bloom.

That was what they all said, she thought. It always sounds so damned _easy._

She looked beyond him, up at the sky that lit up with colours of burning chemicals and fire, and tried to count the stars that hid behind mankind’s brilliant, fiery glow. She was going to die tonight.

She _had_ to.

She focused on a single star, as the nurse began to talk. His words were drowned out by the howling of the wind, the explosions high above them, the world celebrating in the light that cast shadows over her life, about to fizzle out.

The nurse tried pulling her up, but she could see the fatigue that weighed on him from his shifts—the bags under his eyes, the hoarseness of his voice.

“Please, just give up on me. I don’t have anyone else.” She croaked. “You’re just wasting your energy.”

“No way!” The nurse shot back, “You’re not totally alone—”

“Please.” Nick shut her eyes tightly. “I don’t have friends. Family.”

“You have _me!_ ” The nurse yelled, and she jolted. High above her head, she saw a star twinkle in the sky, so oddly bright and perfect, despite the fireworks bursting around them.

“You’re not completely alone! You’ll never be alone! I’ll be there for you!”

Her hand slipped from his, and he choked in shock, his hand gripping hers tighter, and the star grew brighter, as if reassuring her of something. Of oblivion, of hope, she didn’t know.

Nick blinked at the star, and felt her feet swaying in the wind, and the nurse’s desperate grip on her. He didn’t know who she was, and yet there he was, promising an odd sense of forever.

 _Please,_ she thought. _If this is a sign, then let the star fall on me._

The nurse was losing his grip on her now, she knew, and every agonising moment of her steady crawl to her death gripped at her heart like ice. Her resolve began to waver.

_Did she really want this?_

“Please! Miss! I need you to hold on!” The nurse pleaded. “Think about something— _anything!_ There’s _always_ a reason for you to keep holding on!”

Nick’s eyes widened, and she felt her mother’s old necklace thumping against her chest, beating like a heart against hers, as if it was her mother, apologising to her one last time.

She looked up at the star, growing ever brighter above her head.

It’d been ages since she wished upon a star, but maybe, just tonight, on the last night of her life, she could let herself one last indulgence.

_I wish for a reason to live._

The star grew bigger and bigger all of a sudden, and Nick squinted up at it.

This wasn’t right—no, it wasn’t a _star._

It was a _body,_ and it was hurtling towards her. She jolted, and the nurse looked hopeful.

“Hey, you—” he began, but he didn’t get to say anything else when she reached out with her spare arm and caught the body that fell towards her. Nick barely grunted, but the nurse let out a yell of protest, suddenly having to support two bodies by his single arm.

Nick hugged the body close to herself, and realised it was a little girl, around 11 or 12 years of age, with messy black hair, dark skin and a round, heart-shaped face. Her blank expression evenly met Nick’s shocked gape at her, and when their eyes met, it felt like time began to move again.

This little girl could have _died_ , just like she would have.

Perhaps, in her mind, Nick deserved it.

_But not this little girl._

“D-don’t worry, I’ve got you.” She blabbered, her voice shaking as much as her hands were around the girl, “Darling, I’ve got you.”

The nurse, struggling to keep the both of them aloft, looked down at them with wide eyes. “W-wait, is that a—” He stammered, and Nick looked up at him pleadingly.

“W-we can’t let her die,” she said, and he finally looked relieved. “I-I I can’t let her die. She—she doesn’t deserve this.”

“Oh, thank _God_.” He breathed, and gave her a lopsided, friendly smile. “C’mon back up here? I promise, everything’s gonna be okay.”

Nick nodded weakly, and she cooperated with him as he hauled the both of them up and over the ledge. She refused to let go of the little girl as he called an ambulance, and soon the both of them were bundled in shock blankets, on the way to the hospital in the back. The nurse sat with them, across Nick as he watched her still hugging the little girl close to himself.

She couldn’t pay much attention to the man who saved her life. Not yet, not when there was this little girl in her arms, shivering, with eyes so worryingly blank.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly, brushing her long, messy hair aside. Only silence answered her question, but Nick waited for her patiently. All the child could do was open and close her mouth, making short, abortive noises that sounded like precursors of words.

Like a baby still learning to speak, she realised.

“Tell you what,” she said, “I’ll name you Golden, for now.” She patted her head, and the little girl shut her mouth again, blinking up at her blankly. “Then you can choose your own name someday.”

The girl lit up, and she shakily lifted her hand. She pressed it on top of Nick’s chest, cupping over the amethyst pendant under her shirt, and she finally found it in her to crack a smile. She didn’t know if that meant anything, but with the way Golden smiled back at her, she thought that was as close to a yes as she was going to get.

“Golden, huh?” The nurse nodded, and she finally looked at him. He gave her a friendly smile, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That’s a nice name.”

“Th-thanks.” Nick replied slowly.

“So, uh…” The nurse looked off to the side, embarrassed. “My place is free for the night, you look like you need a place to stay at for a while.”

She blinked at him owlishly, and he blushed, laughing sheepishly.

“I just… I mean what I said, earlier. I really will be there for you, if you need me.” He said, “I… I don’t want anyone to take their own lives. Everyone always has _some_ hope in them, you just need time to find it again.” He made a vague gesture, and behind him, Nick could see the street lights moving, making his shadow cross the ambulance’s floor in a slow arc. “I just wanna help you—uh, if you want me to.” Their eyes met, and he shrugged. “Suicide should never be the answer for anyone.”

Hesitantly he gestured at her free hand, and she nodded. His smile softened, and he took her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m Michael Evans.” he said, “Call me Mike. I’d like to help you through this time and get you and Golden back on your feet.”

“She’s—” not mine, she wanted to say, but she stopped. Back then on the bridge, she had wished on the star for a reason to keep holding on, and by some sheer luck, the sky dropped Golden right into her arms. As if sensing her hesitation, Golden cuddled closer to her, and she deflated slightly.

“She’s gonna need someone to take care of her.” He said, “You said so yourself, right? She doesn’t deserve this—and so do you. Neither of you deserve to die.” Mike smiled down at Golden, who blinked at him owlishly as she had with Nick. “And it doesn’t look like she has any family, like you.” He shrugged, a friendly chuckle escaping his lips. “So why not meet in the middle and call the two of you a family?”

Nick hesitated, and she looked down at Golden. The little girl looked up at her, and gently squeezed Nick’s pendant through her shirt again.

Family. In the end, her mother—whatever few good memories she had of her—was still her mother.

And now, there was this little girl, in need of a mother.

Maybe this time—maybe this time, Nick could set things right.

“Yeah, I think.” She said, and Mike’s smile widened. “I… I’ll live on. For her.”

“That’s great.” Mike nodded.

Golden, despite not showing that she understood, seemed to calm down, and began to fall asleep in Nick’s arms, bundled up warmly and comfortably.

“Hey, uh… thank you. Mike.” She said haltingly, “For saving me. I’m sorry to be a burden to you.”

“You’re not a burden.” Mike said kindly, and Nick smiled back at him weakly. “I want to save lives, after all.” He offered her his hand to shake. “I’ll help you get back on track, alright?”

She took his hand and shook it. “Thank you.”

Mike beamed. “So, what’s your name?”

“Nick Lee.” She replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”


	2. Defensive Maneuvers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When stars explode into supernovas, black holes tear everything apart.

“She has a memory disorder, perhaps. I’m not entirely sure yet _why_ she is displaying such odd behaviour. Her brain morphology is fine, and her hormone levels are what a normal 12-year-old should have…”

The voices were hard to make out on top of the fact they were difficult to understand, but Golden tried to listen anyway. Through the window, she could see that her mother looked sad—her expression wasn’t the same when she looked at her, with that smile on her face and a voice gently calling her name. Golden wanted to see her smiling again—the sadness on her mother’s face made sadness churn in her gut. It almost felt like whatever pain Nick carried with her, Golden carried as well.

She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing—in some way, it meant she and Nick shared in her pain, but Golden never enjoyed the feeling of sadness or fear inside her. It felt like knives jabbing into her chest, the turn of not butterflies, but snakes in her stomach. She preferred it when they were both happy—none of the terrible, painful feelings came around.

Golden reached up to press her palm against the door of the office, but her hand was swatted away by the mean-looking lady seated at the creaky plastic chair behind a table by the door. She pouted, and sat back down in her seat after a scolding of her name, spoken not like the way her mother had—sharper, like a warning.

She fell quiet as she waited nervously. Would her mother get mad at her? What was wrong with her?

Why couldn’t she be like the other children?

Ever since she could remember—of what _little_ she could remember—Golden had always had white noise in her head, drowning out most of what she could learn in the time she spent with her mother. She could barely remember her name, the language they spoke—even her own mother’s name—Nick—escaped her memory. She couldn’t talk, she had trouble moving, but her mother, loving and patient, stayed with her all the way. Nick’s friend helped out a lot, too, and Golden was grateful she had a friend like him.

Sometimes, she wondered if she could have _two_ parents like the other children she went to school with. She wondered if Nick’s friend could be her father, so she wouldn’t have to be so… _different._

Nick often reminded her of many things—Golden’s name, her name, her friend and how he was helping them. If it wasn’t for Nick’s patient, careful care for her, Golden wouldn’t even be able to sit still, not the way she could now. Golden always made sure to keep repeating what Nick taught her.

She had a name—Golden. She had a mother—Nick.

Nick loved her very much, and Golden loved her just as much, and it was okay to not be the same as everyone else—some families had one parent, some had two, or none, or more. What mattered was that they were happy, and Golden was.

To an extent.

She looked down at her feet, swinging them to and fro from where they hung over the edge of the plastic chair, and watched her shoelaces swing along with her feet. She giggled softly. Today, they were purple, with yellow stars as a design.

“Hey, there she is.” She heard voices from down the corridor, and she looked up to see other children headed her way. She put a smile on her face, just like Nick always did, and faced them with her head held high.

Her efforts earned her a smack to the left temple, and she toppled down onto the other chairs next to her. The woman at the desk by the door only give a noncommittal grunt, and pointedly kept her eyes on the puzzle she was solving.

“Dumbass!” A tall, big-boned blond boy teased, and someone yanked on her hair.

“Aww, someone gonna cry again? It’s ‘cause you’re so stupid!” Another boy drawled.

“And weird!” A girl chimed in, and kicked her in the shin. Golden stayed quiet, like Nick told her to, and never fought back. The poking, tugging and insults went on until the children grew bored with Golden’s silence, and they stopped.

After waiting a long moment, Golden shook her head, and she heard laughter as she slowly sat up to see the group of children walk out of the hallway to head out into the schoolyard. She couldn’t understand what made them so happy about hurting her. It was terrible, the pain that she could feel not just in her body, but her heart, but she supposed, if it made them happy, then she could bear it.

Maybe someday, they would move on to actually playing with her.

She frowned, clutching at the spots that throbbed particularly hard, especially the side of her head that hit the chairs. She wasn’t entirely sure who did it, but it wasn’t like she could tell her mother what happened. She had enough on her plate as it is.

And it would get them into trouble. That was the last thing she wanted if she wanted to make friends.

The door she waited at eventually opened, and Nick emerged, smiling at Golden sadly as she took her hand.

“Come on, baby, let’s go home.” She said sweetly, and Golden nodded, jumping off her seat to follow her out of the building. A _school,_ Golden read from the sign on the way out, as she and her mother headed towards a beat-up blue car waiting for them on the driveway. Her mother’s friend leaned out the window to give them a wave, and Nick let out a sigh of relief.

“Mike, thank God. I’m so sorry I had to call you in the middle of duty.” She opened the door to get in next to him, and Golden got into the backseat.

“Like I said, it’s no problem.” Mike smiled at her, and he looked over his shoulder to smile at Golden, too. “Hey, kiddo.” He greeted, ruffling her hair, and his hand accidentally brushed her bruise on the side of her head. She winced, and his expression immediately fell. “Golden, lemme see your head.”

Reluctantly, she leaned forward closer to him, and he brushed aside her hair gently to see the bruise. He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Let’s get some ice for that later when we get home.” He said, before turning to look at Nick. “She’s getting bullied, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.” Nick sighed sadly, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to do. No one would believe us unless it came from Golden particularly, but you and I know she can’t talk.”

Mike shot Golden a pitying look, and her heart fell to her gut. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, but all she managed was to gurgle at him a mangled version of the word.

“‘Rry.” She mumbled, and Mike smiled at her sadly.

“It’s okay, kid.” He said, patting her arm before squeezing Nick’s hand. “Maybe it’s time to change schools?”

“This is the third one this year alone, Mike.” She sighed exasperatedly. “I can’t keep moving her.” She looked at her phone, and looked ready to cry. “I can’t afford to send her to the special ed schools either. Not yet.”

Mike’s expression tightened. “I’m so sorry it came to this.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s not Golden’s fault.” She said, “I just—it’s been so _hard._ ” She confessed, “I know you said you’re fine helping me— _us_ , but I’m so sorry, I hate to be such a burden to you, sharing our problems, and—”

“Hey, hey,” Mike thumbed away a tear from her eyes. “I promised to help you, and I’m making good on that promise, damn it.” He laughed softly, poking Nick’s cheek. “Let’s take this slowly, okay? Everything will be alright.”

“Thank you so, so much, Mike.” Nick sighed, and he gave her a friendly shrug.

“C’mon, let’s all go home. I’ll make dinner tonight.”

Nick gave him a watery smile, and she nodded. She looked over at Golden, who offered her an easy smile.

“Golden, I love you.” She said, and Golden couldn’t understand her, but the warmth in her tone made a similar warmth blossom in her chest. “Nick loves you very much, okay? Just—” her voice cracked, and Mike rubbed her arm reassuringly as he began to drive. “Nick loves you. Don’t ever think, for a single day, that I blame you for any of this.”

Golden couldn’t understand her, yet she wished she could. She wished she could say all she felt about Nick—about how grateful she was she never lost patience with her, about how happy she was when Nick was.

All she could do was nod, and she hoped it was enough.

Nick’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Golden was starting to get used to them.

At least they were better than her mother’s tears.

* * *

Despite being in such a wide yard full of children, Golden felt incredibly lonely, as she always was when she was at school.

She sat by herself under a tree, knees hugged close to her chest, as she watched the rest of the school run around in the playground. Beside her, another red-orange leaf fluttered to the ground, brushing against her skin, and she thought about how pretty the colour red was against gold.

In the middle of the yard, her classmates formed a ring, hand-in-hand with each other as they laughed brightly through a song they sang, taught to them by their teacher during classes. She couldn’t sing along, she could even barely remember how it sounded like, let alone _sing_ it, and so she was banished to her little spot under the tree while the class carried on without her. Now, watching them dance in the ring again, she felt tears prickle the corner of her eyes, confused at why she was so _sad_ about a group of her peers singing and dancing in a circle as the memory of half an hour ago faded into the perpetual white noise inside her head.

Golden watched as a blonde girl tripped in her line, but her brunette friend helped her back up onto her feet, and she felt like crying. She watched a boy sing the wrong words—she knew he was wrong with the way his friends laughed at his mistake—but no one put too much attention to it after that, continuing the song like nothing went wrong.

She wanted to be there in the ring with them. She wanted to sing, too, to have fun, but she couldn’t even remember how they learned to do that in the first place.

Nevertheless, Golden got up, and made her way over to them. The circle broke the moment she got close enough, the song dying on her classmates’ lips as she attracted looks of distrust and annoyance when she approached. She couldn’t understand why they hated her so much. She couldn’t speak, but she knew the redhead boy with blue eyes and freckles to her left didn’t like noise. She couldn’t remember a lot of things, but so did the brown-eyed black haired little girl across her in the field.

What made her so _different?_ What was _wrong_ with her?

_Why?_

She felt the first blow to her back, and she didn’t know exactly what happened. All she knew was the feeling of falling to the ground, her knees hitting astroturf, digging painfully into her skin. She whimpered as she felt a shove to her side, pushing the rest of her body down onto the floor.

Golden began to cry as the voices began to spin around her.

“Look at you, you big crybaby!”

A kick, to her gut, and Golden felt her breath escape her, choking her painfully.

“Stupid, stupid! Can’t learn a thing Miss says!”

Golden curled up on herself, sobbing as she wished the pain to just go away. She wouldn’t come back to her classmates anymore. She wouldn’t upset her mother anymore. She would be good, if the pain would just _stop_.

“You don’t even know your mom’s name!” someone said.

Mom, she remembered that word, somehow. Mom, _mother_. Nick. Her mother was named Nick. Golden always made sure to keep telling herself that, so she wouldn’t forget.

She _knew_ her. She wouldn’t forget her.

Golden sniffled, hiding her face in her arms as they continued to kick at her, screaming things at her that not only sounded hurtful, but _felt_ as bad all the same.

“Nick,” she choked, “Nick!”

She felt fire growing in her veins, her flesh disassembling and growing again, and the world exploded into light for a terrible, blinding moment, and her world turned to black.


	3. Polaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pair of friends at the end of one journey, and the beginning of another.

_The Centrus System, 121 Parsecs from the Galactic Centre_

_The Fleet Garrison_

“And so ends the commencement exercises for the 157th Infantry of the Fleet, Class Polaris.”

The auditorium hall exploded into cheers, and the graduates who were gathered in front of the stage threw their violet graduation sashes up into the air, laughing delightedly.

Friends hurried to meet up with friends, others to find their families. Two young men hurried to find each other.

“Met, Met! Over here!”

“Hold on a sec, Ren, over here!”

The two cadets—no, they were _captains_ now—hurried through the crowd, laughing together, hand in hand as they approached a young Apocrite woman in full military regalia, just like they were. She was still holding onto her graduation sash, having caught it as she fell, and though there was a glimmering silver medal hanging from her neck, the smile on her face was much more radiant when she turned to see them. Her transparent wings flicked in a show of friendly annoyance, though that was lost on her best friends who approached her in  a warm, delighted three-way hug.

The taller of her two friends—a Formican, black-skinned like she was and decorated with a beautiful gold medal and a single corsage pinned to his regalia—grinned at her, ruffling her curly black hair that had been tamed into a severe bun. She let out bright peals of laughter, and their third friend tutted. Human and almost a full head shorter, he batted away the Formican’s hand, shaking his head fondly.

“Hey, Aphis.” He greeted, and she snickered at them.

“Hey, Ren.” She replied, completely unmindful that her curls now escaped their confinement in her bun and was in an elegantly ragged ponytail. “I’m surprised Met didn’t just pick you up and carry you here.” She drawled, crossing her arms, her phone held loosely in her hand.

“Oh, speaking of which.” The taller man said, turning to grin at the human with him. “Valedictorian gets to pick the goat up, right?”

“You planned this,” Ren hissed, accusatorily at the both of them, though his words held no venom. The rest of his sentence dissolved into splutters of protest as Met lifted him easily, Aphis’s laughter ringing brightly as he rested Ren on his shoulders. “Aphis, stop him!” He yelled, but he eventually gave up and laughed along with them, especially when the rest of their batchmates caught on to what they were doing. The crowd around them cheered loudly as Met walked around with Ren sitting on his shoulders.

“There is _no way_ I’m stopping that guy.” Aphis grinned, snapping a photo of the two of them with her phone, capturing Met’s wide, bright grin and Ren’s petulant pout before the Formican finally let the human down from his shoulders. “You two are such huge dorks, I can’t believe the both of you.” She rolled her eyes, but Met simply laughed and hugged the two of them again in a bear hug. Aphis burst out into snorting giggles, hugging them back as Ren did the same. When they pulled apart, her dark cheeks were darker with her flush, and her two friends looked the same.

“We’re finally captains.” Ren sighed, standing back to grin at the two of them, and Met and Aphis nodded proudly. “We made it.”

“Honestly, I’m more amazed _you_ made it.” Aphis punched his arm lightly, and Ren laughed sheepishly as Met ruffled his hair, messing up his hairstyle that only managed to stay proper for at least a good hour into the graduation program before it decided to do its own usual thing again.

“Yeah,” Met nodded, “And I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Ren beamed. “I couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

Aphis huffed softly, and held her phone up. “C’mon, you huge saps. Let’s take a photo before I barf at how lovey-dovey you two are.”

Ren flushed, laughing, as Met spluttered.

“A-Aphis!”

“Cheese!” She said over his protests, capturing a photo of Met’s flustered expression, cackling.

“Take it again!” Met yelled, as Ren squirmed against his side, elbowing him as he laughed. “Ren, don’t mess around! This is our graduation!”

“I know,” the human laughed, “But honestly, I didn’t know you were stingy about group pictures.” His laughter grew when Met huffed and grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks together to face Aphis’s camera again. She took another photo, her own face scrunched up into a funny expression.

“Aphis, not you too!” Met frowned, and his shorter companions laughed delightedly. “C’mon, just one proper photo, jeez.”

The two relented, smiling for the camera properly as Aphis took their photo, and Met finally settled down, grinning at the two of them. “Thanks for these few years, guys. You’ve all really made it worth it.”

“That’s basically what you said in your valedictory speech.” Ren chuckled, earning him an elbow to the side from his best friend.

“ _These years with all of you were unforgettable._ ” Aphis lowered her voice, as if trying to match Met’s, but she wasn’t exerting too much effort into it. “ _I’m so proud of all of you, of all of us, but most especially my darling, dearest Ren_ —”

“That is _not_ what I said.” Met cut her off, laughing, but Aphis smirked at him.

“It might as well have.” She wagged a finger in his face. “And—”

“Aphis! Aphis!” The three turned to see another gaggle of new graduates waving Aphis over. “C’mon! Flygirls group photo!”

Aphis turned to look at Ren and Met, and shrugged. “Duty calls.” She laughed, and waved them goodbye as she hurried away to the other group of girls, leaving Met and Ren standing there together, alone.

“Did Aunt Isfet make it?” Ren asked after a comfortable moment of silence passed between them. He bumped their shoulders together, and Met chuckled softly.

“No.” he replied. “How about Rick and Hammy?”

Ren shook his head. “It’d be hard for them to leave the Underground.” He replied. “So it’s just you and me again, huh. The kids with no parents.”

“Like always.” Met wrapped his arm around Ren’s shoulders. “Let’s go to the usual place?”

“Yeah.” Ren nodded. “Kee would probably want to see us.”

Met nodded, and the two of them walked out of the auditorium, a little more somber than they had been before.

* * *

For a pub frequented by Fleet cadets on a 14-hour waking marathon to cram requirements for subjects and exhausted Fleet officers coming back from a particularly rough mission, the Nebula Nova looked particularly lively that day. It was—mostly—because of the Fleet graduation, some families and groups of friends were already there to celebrate more privately in each other’s company.

And there were the tourists, who had come from all over the galaxy to witness the event, like millions of other people on their televisions, witnessing the graduation of a new batch of officers set to protect the galaxy.

Though, with the turn of modern times, the Fleet graduation became an awkward mix of proud galactic history, and capitalistic tourist traps.

Ren had time and again complained about tourists, albeit half-heartedly, and he and Met knew they were always going to keep coming back to the Nebula Nova. Met, for the barkeep and owner—Kee Phalip’s—white sauce that was to _die_ for, and Ren, because it was amusing to watch Kee demonstrate the few things she knew about putting rowdy customers in place.

Entering the pub, they were met by Kee’s gaggle of rowdy little boys—her quadruplets that were always too happy to see Met walking in through the front door.

“Hey, hey!” Met laughed as the boys climbed his legs like he was a stand on the playground, and Ren quickly took out his phone to take a photo of him. “Ren, you better get rid of that.” He deadpanned as they made their way to the bar, where the four-armed Tetrad Kee watched them, her chin on a pair of her hands and giggling at her sons’ antics.

“Hey, _Captains_ ,” she grinned, earning her twin smiles from her regular customers as she used each of her arms to pull a son away from Met with practiced ease. “Congratulations, the two of you.” She beckoned them closer, and the two of them leaned over the counter to let her hug them, each pair of her arms hugging the both of them tightly. “I’m so proud of the both of you.”

“I’m gonna be a Fleet officer someday too!” One of her boys cheered, little Axcle, the runt of the four. He bounced up and down on his heels excitedly. “Just you wait, mama!”

“No, you can’t be a Fleet officer!” His brother,  Fritz, protested, “You’re too tiny!”

“Yes, I can!” Axcle bit back.

Ren laughed, and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Of course you can. If _I_ made it, then so can you.”

The boy beamed at him, before blowing a raspberry at his brothers.

“Go on, you four, there are other customers waiting!” Kee barked, and the quadruplets hurried to leave. She gave Met and Ren a withering smile, and they returned it with bright ones. “Tonight’s stuff is on the house, boys. You’ve earned it!”

“Thanks so much!” Met lit up, “We’ll have our usual.”

Kee gave the two a wink, and headed back into the kitchen as they settled down on stools at the bar. Past the half-empty bottles of cheap liquor haphazardly placed next to the more expensive ones to fit them all in the rack that was far too small for them, the TV droned on, the news coming in the form of a grim-faced anchor listing off the news.

“ _Civil unrest grows as the Pasian empire continues to wage war within itself. The civil wars have begun to seep through to the heart of the Pasian system, with rumours of defectors of the Regency beginning social movements through social media._ ”

Ren looked up to see Met frowning at the monitor as he accepted a shotglass from Kee’s part-timer, vacantly lifting it to his lips, but not drinking. “Met?” He asked.

Met hummed, turning to look at Ren. “Oh, uh. Just a little worried about the Pasian empire.” He replied, bumping their shoulders together. “Senate President Kalos wasn’t the most charming man in the galaxy, so I’m not really surprised the outskirts of the empire revolted, but…” He downed his drink, exhaling deeply. “The crown prince should be just a teenager right now. A kid.”

Ren shrugged. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

At that, Met snorted, laughing into the rim of his glass as he shook his head.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” He chuckled. “You’ve gone and forgotten your General Galactic History, haven’t you?”

“It’s been two and a half years,” Ren defended, pointing at him as he pouted. “Can’t blame me for forgetting when I literally had to study for my life these past few years.”

Met shook his head fondly. “Okay, recap, Ren: Da’an Pas is…”

“The biggest empire in the Galactic Senate.” Ren finished, deadpan, and Met nodded.

“Good, good.” He said patronisingly, earning him a smack in the side from his best friend. He laughed, and continued, “Senate President Kalos is…?”

“Uh, the guy in charge?” Ren scratched the back of his neck.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, Ren.” Met grinned.

Ren glanced at the TV, frowning at the image of Kalos on the screen. “Regent.” He read the man’s title off the scrolling headline, and Met burst out laughing.

“That point doesn’t count, since you cheated.” Met said pleasantly, and Ren crossed his arms, huffing. “So, as Regent, Senate President Kalos exercises the rights the King has to oversee the empire, but he isn’t the King. The crown prince is to be king, when he’s of age.”

Ren nodded. “Sounds reasonable. You said he was a kid, though?”

“15 years old. His name is Prince Adder.” Met explained, tapping the table with his glass to wave the part-timer over for a refill. “Da’an Pas’s legal age is 20.”

Ren whistled. “That’s gotta suck.”

Met nodded grimly. “But politics is politics. I hope he’s doing okay, at least.” He smiled at the part-timer when he poured them both another shot of liquor.

Kee arrived with their food—her classic baked white sauce dish for Met, and a warm meat stew for Ren. The two of them thanked her and settled into a comfortable silence as they ate, which was only broken when Met felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Ren watched him pull it out as he sipped at his own drink, and Met’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Met? What’s up?” He asked.

“There’s a Choosing going on.” He said, blinking down at his phone in surprise. “So soon? I don’t think they’ve cleared out the arena yet…”

“A Choosing?” Ren echoed, putting down his shotglass onto the glimmering marble counter. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been in the Fleet for how many years now, Ren?” Met laughed, shaking his head fondly. “Though I guess you never had the time for that kind of thing. A Choosing means there’s a new Living ship around and they get to choose their pilot.”

“Oh,” Ren blinked. “I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“You’re gonna hate it.” Met replied dryly. “Aphis said the Choosing is happening in the Arene Memorial Arena. We can make it if we used the gravbike.” He slid his phone back into the pocket of his trousers and quickly finished off his meal. “C’mon, finish that off and let’s get going.” He managed after he was done, before downing his drink, and Ren hurried to do the same. “Kee, we’re gonna head out for now, we’ll be back soon!” He called towards the kitchen, and they saw one of her arms wave them goodbye.

“Let’s go,” Ren nodded, getting up to head out after Met. The both of them climbed onto Met’s bike, and as the taller man slipped a helmet onto Ren’s head, Ren poked his side. “Hey, didn’t we just have a few drinks?”

“Well, not like you, Mister Lightweight, I can actually hold my liquor.” Met chuckled. “Why do you think I’m giving _you_ the helmet?”

Ren scowled at him, but he had no time to protest when Met sped off down the road. He let out a yell of protest, drowned out by the wind and Met’s laughter, and he wrapped his arms around him tightly to hold on.


	4. The Choosing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A home far away from home, in the heart of someone familiar yet new.

The Arene Memorial Arena was _packed_ , claustrophobic to the point that it would have made Ren simply turn on his heel and walk away, new Living Ship be damned. He stayed, however, thanks to Met’s hand around his wrist, carefully leading him around the crowd with practised ease. He had never actually _seen_ how Living Ships chose their pilots—the last time a Living Ship chose her pilot, he was holed up in the bunker he shared with Met, cramming whatever he could for the exam on mechanics and hydraulics the next morning.

He heard the news after he emerged from the testing room feeling like a zombie—the Living Ship, Stella Traversa, had chosen their Commander-in-Chief, Commander-General Taxis Cadeyrn. Met had stars in his eyes, then.

Now, Ren could see the annoyance seeping into Met’s expression. He was the more patient one between the two of them, but now, with his hand firmly around Ren’s wrist, he was starting to let his annoyance get the best of him. It was getting uncomfortable, but letting go meant losing Met to the crowd, and Ren wouldn’t have that. Not when not many spacefolk took to humans as well as Met or Aphis had.

Met meandered through the crowd, dodging wings and other appendages alike until he managed to bring Ren to the railing overlooking the arena below them. Not too long ago, the place had been filled with chairs atop a protective cover over the usual sand floor, and a stage had been set up in the middle, and Ren and Met were standing there, freshly graduated into their new lives in the Fleet. Now, the chairs were gone, and the sand was uncovered again. The stage had been pushed back against the edge of the arena, and in the middle of the sand stood a clear chamber, tall enough for an adult of most species to stand in comfortably stood. A barrier of metal railings surrounded the chamber at a wide radius, and around that, Ren saw a group of generals already gathering at the ring.

“I… didn’t know it looked like this.” Ren said to Met, surprised to see concern marring his brow. “Or is it not supposed to look like this?”

“Haven’t seen it like this before.” Met frowned, crossing his arms as they watched the crew finish up their preparations, hurrying away from the barrier around the chamber. “Usually, the LS would just make an announcement, or they would let the official candidates convince them to choose them.” As was the case for Cadeyrn, Ren had heard, “But this… this is making me uneasy.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “There’s too many generals down there.”

“The chamber makes me uneasy too.” Ren nodded.

“Yeah.” Met agreed, and the two looked on nervously as spotlights shone on the ring suddenly, and another spotlight focused on a Formican woman standing on the stage behind a podium.

General Madame Maclaine’s severe visage appeared on the screen high above their heads, and Met and Ren looked up at it for a better view.

“ _Today’s Choosing circumstances have been unique, more so than the other Choosings we have witnessed over the years._ ” She said, her voice booming throughout the entire arena. “ _Recently in the Velian System, an energy spike alerted the Fleet of the birth of a new Living Ship. Stella Aurum was found in a crater characteristic of an ion cannon blast, having caused significant damage to a civilian neighbourhood in a non-space-age planet._ ”

She shuffled a few papers on her podium, grim-faced.

“ _Appropriate Fleet-sanctioned actions have been taken to extract her from her birthplace, and Stella Prima has secured her identity as of late. The need for her Choosing to come at such an early time in her development is due to the fact that she does not have a Heartstone._ ”

Met and Ren shared a look of surprise. “Well, _that’s_ something you don’t hear every day.” Met said.

A Living Ship missing their Heartstone was like a computer missing its hard disk drive. They would not be able to think straight, white noise polluting the sound of their minds, and they wouldn’t be able to make memories. They would be blank, unresponsive to new signals until they were taught to them so much their random access memory could probably store the data they need to process the stimulus, but aside from that, they were nothing. A Living Ship’s Heartstone was their heart. Their personality. The place where all their memories went. It was equally heart and mind and soul, and they would not be able to live without them.

Poor thing, Ren thought. No doubt the Living Ship’s first few moments of their life was an utter nightmare with how little they understood their world.

“ _Therefore, it is imperative for Stella Aurum to find her pilot, so she may have her own Heartstone given to her. Generals, you have been chosen from the elite qualified individuals to approach her, and with good grace, she may choose you to be her pilot._ ” Maclaine continued, nodding. “ _Arriving now is Stella Prima, with our new Living Ship._ ”

Stella Prima, the first Living Ship. Ren had only heard about him, and saw his pictures.

When Stella Prima stepped out into the arena, Ren couldn’t help the awed gasp of surprise to see the tall Rangiferian man, graceful in his step as he strode forward. His antlers were impressive, pitch black and starkly contrasting the golden flowers blooming along vines that wound around them, not a single one out of place or shedding petals as he moved. In front of him, held by the shoulders, was a little human girl, looking worse for wear and shivering up a storm, dressed in a too-loose Fleet uniform that was still several sizes too large for her.

Ren’s heart shot to his throat, and his eyes widened.

“She’s a human.” He breathed. “Met, she’s… she’s a _human_.”

Met patted his arm, still intently watching as Stella Prima led the little girl past the barrier and into the glass chamber, pressing his free hand to one of its pristine walls to have it fall open. He helped her inside the chamber, his other hand still on her shoulder, and he gently let her go in favour of closing the chamber, isolating her from the rest of the arena. The moment his hand left her shoulder, she seemed to snap out of her trance, and sheer _terror_ crossed her face. Ren felt his heart wrench for her.

The generals gathered at the edge of the ring were allowed to approach the barrier, and they began to beckon at her. Ren could see them talking to her, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying.

He didn’t _want_ to know what they were saying.

“Damn,” Met sighed, shaking his head. “Look at them. They look like a bunch of Nestran exotic pet dealers.”

Ren was practically off the railing with how far he was leaning over it.

“She looks so scared.” He said, his voice small, and his best friend sighed.

“Yesh, poor thing.” Met agreed, “I can’t imagine what it’d be like for her down there. Hell, I can’t imagine her with _any_ one of these guys.”

Ren bit his lip, and for a moment, he thought his eyes met the little girl’s. Stella Aurum looked up at him, and there was a brief moment of clarity that flashed in her eyes. She reached out for him, and Ren knew he had to do _something_.

Something tugged at his heart—he felt like he had to do something, damn all of the consequences that followed after it.

As his parent once said, never pass up the opportunity to do the right thing.

“I…” he began, and Met looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Ren—”

“It’s the stupidest idea ever.”

Met blinked at him, but he quickly recovered, and smiled slowly. “Then that just means it’s a good one.” He said, “What do you need?”

“I’m, uh, I’m going to need…” Ren looked around, panicking slightly, until he saw a hook-like slab of metal jutting out from the lowered spotlight fixtures. “I’m gonna need a rope.”

“Say no more.” Met unbuckled a small, black round disc from his belt. “You’re lucky I never go without this.”

“And that’s why I love you so.” Ren replied dryly, taking it from him to inspect it carefully. He pressed a small button on the underside of the disc, and out sprang three prongs of a grappling hook. Underneath the prongs was the hidden rope, and he pulled out the hook to give the rope an experimental tug. “Never dropped the habit since third year, huh?”

“I don’t like the prospect of drowning, Ren.” Met replied, rolling his eyes. “What’re you going to do with that, anyway?”

Ren didn’t reply, glowering at the hook, and then at the piece of metal he’d been eyeing before aiming carefully. He reattached the hook to its launcher, and launched it towards the fixture to watch it loop neatly on the creaky metal, before locking securely. Met’s eyes widened.

“Okay, you’re right.” He began, as Ren tugged on the rope a few times experimentally. “This _is_ the stupidest idea ever.”

Ren grinned at him. “You know what Rick always says—someone’s gotta do the right thing.”

Met shook his head fondly at him. “You’re gonna do amazing things, you crazy, crazy human.”

Ren laughed, and gave him a small wave. “Well, here goes everything.”

He jumped onto the railing, ignoring the scandalised shouts from the people around them and took a deep breath. He looked back down at Stella Aurum, and kicked off the bar.

It felt like time had slowed down, as he swung high over the heads of the people, and he tucked his legs in close to himself when he swung back towards Met, avoiding the arms that tried to grab him, before swinging back towards the ring. He braced himself for the coming impact, and let go of the rope, landing heavily in the sand. It flew up into the air and Ren squeezed his eyes shut, rolling along the length of the ground to follow the energy of his drop, until he came to a stop a meagre foot away from Stella Aurum’s glass chamber.

He scrambled to his feet to realise he had landed past the barrier set up for the generals, and he turned to look at Stella Aurum, and the pleading look in her eyes.

“H-hey—” he stopped himself, realising that without a Heartstone, she probably couldn’t understand Galactic Basic.

But she _was_ human, a human from the Velian System, so that meant…

“ _A-apple._ ” He said in English, the word blurred with memory, and a heavy tongue unused to the language. “Apple?”

He wasn’t very good at English. His parent told him as much, teaching him three different languages back home with the Eptils. Of the three, Ren disregarded English for Galactic Basic and Eptilian, thinking he would never need it, but now…

Well, hindsight would always have perfect vision.

Despite his poor skill in English, Stella Aurum lit up, recognition lighting in her eyes at the familiar, foreign word.

“ _Apple, apple!_ ” She echoed, nodding wildly. Her voice was muffled by the glass, but she hurried from where she was huddled in the middle of the chamber to press her hand against its wall, as if reaching out for Ren with the desperation of a storm-tossed seaman who finally found a lifeline. “ _Apple! Man!_ ”

Ren nodded vigorously. “Man!” He parroted, “Human. Same as you.”

Stella Aurum patted the glass desperately, pawing at him, and Ren cautiously stepped forward. Their movement triggered the glass’s sensors, and the panels fell down, letting Stella Aurum rush up to him to hug his midsection.

Ren froze, before settling to awkwardly pat her head, and he looked up at Met over his shoulder.

Through the bright light flooding the arena, it was hard to see him, but he looked like he was cheering something.

The whole arena went into an uproar. Jeers exploded from the stands around him, and the generals behind the barrier leered at him as Stella Aurum buried her face into the cloth of Ren’s regalia, trembling. He felt her small hands ball into fists into the fabric of his jacket, and he rubbed her back comfortingly as he did his best to glare at the men around him.

The fear of what could happen suddenly began to sink in.

He’d done the right thing, definitely—he didn’t regret that, but now, he would have to face the consequences of making the right choice.

“What’s this new graduate doing in a place like this?”

“Isn’t that Polaris’s _batch goat?_ In the very least, it could’ve been the damned valedictorian, _he’s right there!_ ”

“Who does this _human_ think he is?”

Yikes, he thought, though that was nothing new. In the time he entered Eptilia, to his enrolment and up to his _graduation_ he’d heard many an unsavoury thing about his species.

Weak. Non-space-age. Dumb. Good only for slave trade. Display prize-meat—he’d heard it all, even from his parent, back before they adopted him.

He was used to this, but he jumped when he heard Stella Aurum whimper. He looked down to see her crying into his jacket, as if somehow understanding at least the context of all the jeers being thrown at Ren. He felt something stir in his chest, an odd, familiar sort of ache, and for a moment, he thought back to a little Japanese boy with a broken leg, sobbing his eyes out at the bottom of an impossibly long chute that separated the surface of Earth from the Eptil underground, and he understood.

He could see where her fear was coming from. He’d been through the same thing—torn from his original home, only to find a new one elsewhere in a strange, and frightening new world.

He knelt down to hug Stella Aurum tightly, hushing her reassuringly as he stroked her messy black hair. It’d been tied in low twintails—at least someone had been taking care of her prior to this.

“I’m here, it’s okay,” he knew he had slipped back into Glactic Basic, but Stella Aurum was too far gone in her tears to notice. “Shh, I’ll take care of you.”

A bright spotlight shone on them, and Ren winced, squinting to try and see what was happening, when three loud bangs stunned the hall into silence.

“ _Conduct yourselves with proper behaviour._ ” General Maclaine’s stern voice echoed over the silenced arena. “ _Are you Fleet officers or Naalian barkers?_ ”

There was stunned silence that followed her words, and mercifully, the spotlight died down enough to let Ren properly see. Maclaine stood right in front of him, and he jolted, having realised that it was her shadow that dimmed the light that drowned his vision. He hugged Stella Aurum closer to himself reflexively, and she looked down at him impassively.

Much to his surprise, for a brief moment, the steel in her eyes softened at the sight of them together, but the moment was over as soon as it began, and hard coldness settled once more in her gaze at him. She turned away from him after that to address the crowd once again.

“ _As a Living Ship, Stella Aurum has rights she is allowed to exercise._ ” She announced, “ _If she chooses Captain Ren Ishigaki as her pilot, then he shall be her pilot._ ”

Jeers answered her declaration, and she fired her blaster at the ceiling, shattering a lightbulb and stunning the crowd into silence once more.

“ _Fleet officers,_ ” she growled, “ _Or Naalian barkers?_ ”

When obedient silence answered her, she nodded in satisfaction, and looked down at Ren. “To your new hangar, Captain Ishigaki. And bring Stella Aurum with you; Stella Prima awaits your arrival.”

“W-wait, G-General Maclaine—”

“Captain Met will be informed of your whereabouts.” She cut him off. “Now leave.”

Ren looked conflicted for a moment, looking down at Stella Aurum to see her calm enough to stop crying. He gave her a shaky smile, and she simply blinked back up at him.

He felt bad for leaving Met up there, but Stella Aurum needed him more than Met did right now.

“C’mon, then,” he told her gently, taking her hand as he pulled away from her. He stood up properly, and tugged on her hand gently. “This way.”


	5. Heartstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new heart, a new mind. A new friend, a new father.

The LS hangars were _huge_ , Ren thought, as he and Stella Aurum walked together, hand in hand inside their own hangar—LS hangar number 7. He looked down at the little girl, and he was relieved to see something other than fear on her face—now, she had wide eyes filled with wonder and awe at the interesting, incredible new place she would now call home. He couldn’t blame her—his first time in the Fleet Garrison had him gaping at everything too.

The hangar itself was empty, big enough for at least one carrier ship and cargo crates—no doubt ready for whatever model it was Stella Aurum decided to use, as well as cargo items, and far beyond them, at the far end of the hangar, was the doorway out into space. The Fleet Garrison was a floating colony that circled an orbit around the Centrus system, and from the plasma wall-sealed doorway, Ren could see the Galactic Senate’s own massive ship-colony flying across the Garrison’s orbit. Behind them, four doors led to the outside. To the right was the door to the sixth LS hangar, Hangar 6, occupied by Stella Traversa. To the left was the door to the eighth LS hangar, ready for a new Living Ship to occupy, when they made themselves known. The third was where they came from to get into the Hangar, and the fourth led to a stairwell that led up into an apartment overlooking the hangar—Ren and Stella Aurum’s new quarters, and Ren found himself sheepishly remembering Met.

He had a lot of apologising to do to him, didn’t he?

He took a long-suffering breath. It was for the best, he told himself. Aurum needed him.

“So,” he said in English, scraping together what he could remember of it in his head, and the girl turned to look up at him again owlishly. “What’s your name?”

She seemed to hesitate, as if trying to say something, but all she managed was an unintelligible garbled word, and Ren’s smile faded slightly.

“No… name, huh.” He scratched the back of his neck, slipping back to Galactic Basic. “I guess we could just ask Stella Prima.”

As if on cue, the Rangiferian man showed up, emerging from a door that slid open from the right side of the hangar. He elegantly ducked under the top beam of the doorway to avoid catching his antlers on anything, and strode over to Ren and Stella Aurum gracefully. His black robes—Bulac silk with golden Pasian embroidery—trailed like a king’s robes behind him, and Ren resisted the urge to bow to the man. Instead, he stood up straight at his arrival, giving the man a snappy salute as the girl cocked her head at them.

“At ease, Captain Ishigaki.” Stella Prima told him warmly, a kind smile on his lips as he waved Ren’s arm down gently.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stella Prima, sir.” He replied stiffly, and the man chuckled.

“Andrew is fine.” He said, “That is my name, after all, young captain.”

“Andrew.” Ren awkwardly amended.

“Or Andy, as Dove likes to call me.” Andrew hummed pleasantly, before looking down at Stella Aurum. “And hello, my dear child. You’ve finally chosen a pilot.”

Despite the fact he was speaking in Basic, Stella Aurum didn’t seem as panicked as she was before. Maybe she already knew Andrew was someone she could trust—with the way Andrew led her, holding her by her shoulders, he must have been in her head prior to coming out onto the arena. She still couldn’t understand him, however, but Andrew didn’t seem to mind, turning back to address Ren.

“Now, Captain, as you have heard General Maclaine explain, young Stella Aurum does not have a Heartstone. As her pilot, only you have the right to give her her very own.” He said carefully, sternly—like a father explaining something to a young child. His voice was deep, slow and calming, not at all patronising, and it made Ren even more anxious about what they were about to do. “Although the Heartstone could come from virtually anything, I recommend you give her something dear to yourself, to build your bond stronger and faster. Aside from that, I suspect little Aurum does not have her other essential chips, as well.” Andrew held out three datachips for Ren to take. “A Nav Chip, and the Storage I and II Chips.” He explained, pointing at each one as he listed them off. “As a fresh graduate of the Garrison, surely you still remember your ship motherboards.” He chuckled.

Ren dazedly took the chips from him.

He did not, he wanted to say.

“Yes, sir, I do.” Was what came out of his mouth.

Andrew smiled at him, proudly, like a father would, and it made something ache in Ren’s chest. Andrew’s smile and gentle words were nothing like his parent’s, but after years of not seeing them, the Living Ship made him miss them.

“Excellent.” He nodded, “As you may already know, Living Ships all have a unique ability to themselves. I, as The Father, am able to speak with all the Living Ships to their very cores.”

“You… talk to their Heartstones?” Ren ventured, and Andrew shrugged, chuckling.

“It can be said as such,” he agreed, “So long as I am touching her, I will be able to momentarily make up for her lack of a Heartstone. She should be able to be coaxed into taking a ship form while you install her essential chips. However,” he held up a finger in warning. “I can only hold her for five minutes, at the most. Without her Heartstone, it will be hard to commune with her, so I am counting on you to make a speedy installation, Captain.”

Ren paled. “I, uh… what’s going to happen to me if I… don’t make it?”

Andrew’s smile was too cheerful, almost saccharine.

“You will get crushed, my boy.”

Ren swallowed nervously.

“I’m going to die.” He deadpanned. “Oh, my God.”

“Oh, but of course, that is provided you do not make the installation in time.” Andrew patted his arm reassuringly. “I suggest installing the Heartstone first, to allow me to talk to her properly. The Storage Chips can go next, and then the Nav Chip, if only she needs them.” He stepped back, clasping his hands together. “Are we ready, Captain?”

Nervously, Ren took a deep breath. “A-a minute, please.”

“Of course.” Andrew nodded gracefully, and stepped away to stand a few paces away, waiting patiently as he politely turned around to face away from Ren and Stella Aurum, looking instead out at the vastness of space beyond them. As soon as he was out of sight, Ren deflated, and looked down at Stella Aurum, who looked adorably confused. He sighed, and knelt down to look her in the eye.

“So I _might_ die if I don’t make it.” He told her, but he knew she couldn’t understand him. “I want you to know that I’m going to try my best, okay? At least your Heartstone should be a good enough target for me.”

She nodded absently, and he smiled back at her shakily, straightening up again to dig around the breast pocket of his uniform’s jacket. He pulled out an old plastic cartridge of a game he had with him since he fell down the hole into Eptilia. It’d been so long since he used his old human languages—English was barely stretching it, really—so he couldn’t read the characters on the cartridge anymore, but he kept it with him as a memento even after he left his home. Out of sentiment, or just the need to be reminded of his roots as a human on Earth, perhaps, but Ren knew it meant a lot to him all the same.

He just wasn’t sure why.

“Stella Aurum,” he told her carefully, “This will be your Heartstone.” He showed her the catrtidge, and she simply blinked at it. He laughed weakly, and patted her head. “You’ll get it soon.”

He steeled himself, and straightened up. “Alright, Stel—er, Andrew. Sir.” He stammered, and Andrew gave him a patient smile. “I’m… I’m ready.”

“Very well.” Andrew nodded. “I shall make her a Carina CL-100. Simple enough model for you to navigate, Captain?”

Ren nodded mutely, and he let Andrew pull Stella Aurum away from him. She looked reluctant to let Ren go, but he gave her a reassuring smile as Andrew held her hand.

“Now, my dear, open up…”

He shut his eyes, and a light surrounded the two of them. Ren winced, shutting his eyes, and the next thing he knew, a Carina CL-100 stood in front of him, the entrance hatch missing, and Andrew was holding its wing.

“Hurry, Captain.” Andrew told him, and Ren didn’t need to be told twice. He darted inside the ship, and made a beeline for the pilot’s seat. He sat himself heavily down on it, panting softly as he slowly began to panic, looking for the panel that opened up to the ship’s motherboard.

He eventually found it behind the joystick controls, popping it open with a shaky hand, and the green board slid out towards him, where a whole set of jacks was missing.

“R-right, okay, Storage Chips, Nav Chip…” Ren muttered, panicked, as he looked over the meandering lines of wires along the ship motherboard. “Damn it, where is it…?”

He _knew_ he should have listened to Met that day of the exam on this. He could always find the control jacks _because of_ the Storage Chips and the Nav Chips, but now that he had them in his hand, how was he supposed to find them?

“Captain, a little haste,” Andrew said from outside, strained, and Ren’s panic flared.

“U-uh, yeah, um,” Ren stammered, scanning the board. “Where is it, where is it…”

He spotted four jacks in the corner of the board, and he wondered why there were _four_ instead of the usual three.

“ _Captain Ishigaki._ ” Andrew pressed.

Ren jumped. That was right—this was a Living Ship. The control jacks were _four_ in a Living Ship. He’d found it.

He hurriedly slipped the two Storage Chips and the Nav Chips into their designated slots, and he took one last look at the last remnant of his past human life. He smiled sadly at it, before slipping it into the last control jack slot as he squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself in fear as he expected the worst to hit him.

There was a long, terrible moment of silence, and Ren expected the ship’s walls to collapse in on him, but she held together, dead still, and Ren finally dared to open his eyes.

“You are alive, Captain.” Andrew said pleasantly from where he stood next to Stella Aurum’s wing. “Please come outside to say hello to your new Living Ship.”

Ren stumbled out of the Carinan plane dazedly, and as soon as his feet hit the ground of their hangar, Stella Aurum morphed back into her old body, collapsing to the ground in shock. Ren’s eyes widened and he hurried to her side, helping her back onto her feet as she looked up at him, eyes wide.

“I-I can think straight.” She stammered in clear Galactic Basic, and Ren couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “Th-there’s no noise!”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Nice to hear you talking in Basic, too.”

“I can understand you!” She gasped.

“Yes, there is a language module in the Storage I chip he gave you.” Andrew explained mildly, and the girl whirled around to gape at him.

“I-it’s you! You’re that voice in my head… you…” She deflated. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.” He chuckled. “Hello, Stella Aurum. I am Andrew, Fleet standard code LS-01, Interstellar Ship Stella Prima.”

“Stella… Aurum?” She echoed. “That’s… that’s not my name. I think.”

“No, it’s your ship ID.” Ren replied, and she turned to look at him. “Usually, LS’s either choose their names or their pilot does it for them.”

“LS?” Stella Aurum echoed, and Andrew chuckled.

“I shall leave the two of you be.” He said, “Welcome to the Fleet, my child.” He gave her a kind pat on the head, and nodded at Ren. “Captain, congratulations. On both your graduation, and your new Living Ship.”

Ren gave him a salute, but he was grinning widely. “Thank you, sir.”

Andrew gave them both a small wave, and headed out of their hangar. Stella Aurum looked up at Ren confusedly, and he laughed tiredly.

“Hi,” he said, holding his hand out for her to shake. “My name’s Ren Ishigaki. I’m a fighter class pilot in the Fleet Garrison, and I’m gonna be your pilot from now on.”

The girl blinked at his hand owlishly, before taking it.

She didn’t shake it, and Ren laughed softly.

“You’re what we call a Living Ship, or LS. They’re beings that can alter their atoms and transform into any model plane they can be, so long as they have blueprints of it in their Storage Chips.” He patted her hand in his, and knelt down to address her properly. “Your ship ID for the Fleet Garrison’s record is Stella Aurum, but you can choose what your name is.”

“Aurum.” She hummed. “I dunno how I wanna be called yet, but I think I’ll find out eventually.” She finally smiled at him, and Ren nodded. “For now, Aurum is fine.”

“Awesome.” He replied. “Then you can choose your own name someday.”

At his words, Aurum seemed to deflate, her smile fading slightly as she held her chest, and he cocked his head at her.

“Aurum?”

“No, it’s… nothing.” She said after a long moment of consideration. “I feel like… I just feel… sad, for some reason. Like I left something important behind.”

“Huh.” Ren hummed, but she shook her head.

“A lot’s happened today. My memories from before you put my Heartstone in are still kinda fuzzy, so I… I’m gonna need some time to sort myself out.”

“Alright then.” Ren nodded. “Well, from today on, we’ll be training together. The other Living Ships will teach you how to control your transformations, and soon you’ll be able to choose what ship model you’d prefer to be.”

Aurum nodded, and she gingerly squeezed Ren’s hand. “Hey, um… thank you.” She said quietly. “For being patient with me.”

“It’s no problem at all—” Ren began to say, but he stopped when he saw her eyes welling up with tears again. He gasped, and hurried to get his handkerchief out to wipe her tears away. “H-hey, Aurum, what’s wrong?”

“I-I don’t know,” she stammered, as the tears kept flowing. “I feel so… sad? Relieved, somehow?” She looked up at him pleadingly, and Ren felt his own heart wrench at the sight of her tears. “It feels like… for the longest time, I had thought something was wrong with me, even if I barely remember anything from before you—this—” she winced, and Ren made a move to catch her if she fell. Aurum smiled at him gratefully, and leaned into his arms in a weak hug.

“I think… somehow, you fixed me.” She said quietly. “Thank you.”

Ren huffed fondly, and he stroked her hair.

“I’m looking forward to flying with you.” He said.

She hummed, finally smiling, and hugged him a little tighter.

“Me too.”


	6. Ian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a new star is born, older ones burn ever brighter.

_Two months later_

“And concentrate on that ion cannon. That’s it, good girl.”

“Hey!”

Ren practically screamed when a pair of hands slammed down on his shoulders, and he whirled around at the sound of familiar laughter. Behind him, Met was bent over laughing, clutching his sides, and heat spread across Ren’s cheeks in embarrassment as he smacked his best friend in the side. Met waved his surprise off, sitting heavily down next to him on the couch Ren had moved from the apartment to the hangar.

“When did you get back?” Ren asked, his initial shock and annoyance fading as the two of them settled into a familiar, comfortable sprawl on the couch. “How was the Pasian system?”

“I’ll tell you about it later.” Met grinned, and poked Ren’s cheek when he received a frown for an answer. “So, Aurum’s training with Pance right now, is she?”

Ren turned to look at the two Living Ships again. Stella Fortis, an Unginean woman with impressive bull horns was the fourth Living Ship. She specialised in warfare as a military carrier, and she had the second most powerful cannon of the Living Ships. She was a good half-body taller than Aurum was, and she had a strong, muscular and thick body. Her hair, a rich violet colour, matched her pink eyes, and despite her rather rugged features, she was nothing but skillfully careful with Aurum.

Proving the point—Pance picked Aurum up easily with one hand that easily spanned much of Aurum’s torso, lifting her high into the air much to the little girl’s giggles of delight. There was nothing to be worried about—Pance was always doing this with her—but Ren still couldn’t help but tense up, even as the two Living Ships dissolved into laughter. Training was quickly forgotten in favour of playing around, and Met patted Ren’s knee, the man finally relaxing into his seat.

“Define training.” Ren deadpanned, and Met snorted in amusement.

“Has she decided on a preferred model yet?” He asked.

“No, but I think she's particular to civilian ships.” Ren huffed, and Met laughed harder. “ _It's not funny._ ” He pouted petulantly.

“Seven years of fighter class training!” Met gasped dramatically, catching Aurum and Pance’s attentions. “Down the drain!”

“Met!” Ren hissed, just as Aurum squealed delightedly, “Met!”

“Aurum!” Met greeted her warmly as she ran up to him to hug him tightly. “Nice to see you training.”

Pance approached them, smiling. “Welcome back, Captain Idiritri.” She said. “Captain Ishigaki missed you.”

“Not anymore,” Ren grumbled, and Met jabbed at his side, grinning. “No, you're not going to smile me into forgiving you.”

Aurum giggled. “It's so good to have you back!”

“Good to be back.” Met winked at Ren, who rolled his eyes. “Stella Genus should be on her way here, too. She's just unloading stuff and passengers in Hangar 5.”

Aurum lit up. She always liked her—Danajis. An tall, slim and elegant Papilid woman who preferred wrap-around silken shawls over her sensitive antennae. She had wide, membranous butterfly wings covered with royal blue scales that made her wings look like tossing oceans, and they never failed to bring stars of wonder in Aurum’s eyes. Danajis preferred civilian single pilot ships to small carrier models, and in the army, she preferred to serve as military support in the form of medic-specialising ships. “Can we go see her?”

“And what about me?” Pance laughed good-naturedly, and Aurum flushed in embarrassment.

“I-I'm sorry, Pance, I—”

“No, it's fine. I'm just joking.” She laughed ruffling her hair. “Have you reported to Commander Cadeyrn yet?”

“General Orent is.” Met replied. “Though, he's still trying to calm little Miss Salty down.”

“Little Miss Salty?” Ren echoed.

“Dove.” Pance chuckled.

Stella Fulgore, third Living Ship. A Felid blonde-fur girl with cat ears and a matching tail. Ren hadn't met her yet, but he knew her pilot was General Phosphos Orent. She was said to be a bit of a hot-and-cold kind of girl, always picking fights with her pilot, but when Orent flew on missions without her, she would throw a fit.

“I'll go talk to her.” Pance volunteered. “Seems she's been a little under the weather lately, anyway.” She gave the three of them a mock salute. “Alright, kids. Training’s over for today. Aurum, get yourself a good dinner and a better night’s sleep. Captain Ishigaki,” he nodded at her. “Keep an eye on her, alright? Can't let her have that sugar rush again.”

Ren flushed, and Met snickered behind his hand. Aurum giggled apologetically.

“Y-yes, ma'am.”

Pance gave them a small wave and she strode away. Ren turned to look at Met witheringly. “Well, since you're here, might as well have dinner with us.”

“Are you cooking tonight, Ren?” Aurum asked excitedly as she took his hand. Ren nodded as he got up, and she cheered.

“Awesome. Home cooked meals when I arrive back at the Garrison. Now _that's_ the life.”

“You're sleeping on this couch. Outside.” Ren deadpanned, but he laughed when Met slung his arm over his shoulder as they walked.

“You know you won’t let me freeze to death in my sleep out here.” He grinned, pinching Ren’s cheek.

“Try me.”

“As long as I can eat your home-cooked meals, buddy, I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

* * *

“Oh, _blessed winds_.” Met sighed deeply, leaning back in his seat in contentment as Ren picked up their used dishes. “You’re… you’re amazing.”

“Thank you.” Ren chuckled fondly, “Military rations don’t do my cooking justice, don’t they?”

“Absolutely not!”

“So? How was Da’an Pas?” Aurum asked excitedly, tugging on his wrist to pull him to the couch, and the man laughed fondly, following after her to settle down with her on the couch while Ren busied himself with cleaning up. “Is it really a huge ship orbiting a gas giant?”

“Yeah.” Met nodded, stroking her head to get her to calm down. “It’s like the Fleet Garrison—even bigger, actually! It could fit three or four proper cities, and valleys, hills and farmland. It was _huge_. Packed with people too.”

“Well, it’s one of the oldest open cities. No surprise there.” Ren chimed from the kitchen, emerging from it while pulling his apron off.

“Yeah, that’s true.” Met nodded.

“Did you meet the prince?” Aurum had stars in her eyes again, but Met shook his head.

“General Orent did.” He paused, humming in thought as Ren sat down to get to work on brushing Aurum’s hair. “Maybe. Point is, he was the one who met up with Senate President Kalos, along with Stella Genus. I stayed in the city for a bit with the other guys.”

Aurum deflated. “Oh.” She frowned, as Ren began to braid her hair.

“But we met someone really, _really_ interesting.” Met winked at her. “ I think you’ll meet him soon, if—”

His phone suddenly rang, and he stopped mid-sentence to jump. Ren and Aurum blinked at him as he answered it.

“Captain Khimet Idiritri.” He said, and he winced at the answer he got. “G-General Maclaine.” He paused, and his eyes widened at her response. “What? Wait, he’s—but I thought—”

Ren and Aurum shared confused looks, as Met paused to listen to her, but eventually he sighed fondly, a smile creeping on his face. “He insisted, did he? What a handful of a kid.”

He paused again to let Maclaine answer him, and he laughed. “Yes. Hangar 7 apartments, with Ren and Stella Aurum.” He paused for her answer again. “Understood, Ma’am. I’ll wait for him here.”

He hung up, and he grinned at Aurum and Ren. “So, I made a new friend in Da’an Pas.” he explained, “I’d been meaning to introduce him to you tomorrow after all his registration was done, but it seems due to his insistence that can wait for tomorrow.” Aurum cocked her head at him.

“Registration?”

Met winked at her, and the doorbell rang. “I think you’ll like him, Aurum.”

He got up to answer the door, and as soon as the door opened, a blur of white tackled him. The force was barely enough to wobble him, but Met laughed brightly as another officer peered into the room, a young Tetrad man with a lopsided grin.

“Oh, Captain Spitz!” Ren lit up, giving him a wave, and the man gave him a mock salute.

“Hey,” he greeted, “I’m gonna go off and report back to General Maclaine. Play nice, kids.”

Met gave him a mock salute as well, and Spitz answered him with one of his own, before walking away. The door slid shut, and finally whatever it was that tackled Met spoke.

“Met! You weren’t at the hangar where Mr. Orent said you would be, so I—” The bundle of white stammered, and Aurum’s eyes widened when she saw pure white wings spread open to reveal a young blue-eyed blond teen clinging to Met’s chest.

“Ian, you had your registration to take care of.” He chuckled, patting the blond’s head. “Relax. I just met up with those friends I told you about.”

Ian—the winged boy—finally looked up from Met’s chest to look at Ren and Aurum. His eyes widened at the sight of them, and he gaped at them. “Oh.” he breathed. “These are your friends.”

“Yep.” Met gently pried Ian away from him to grin at Ren and Aurum. “Alright, guys, this is Ian.” He gestured at the blond, and then at Ren and Aurum. “This is Ren Ishigaki, he’s a pilot like I am.” Ren gave Ian a friendly smile and a small wave, and Ian nodded at him sheepishly. “And this is Stella Aurum, a Living Ship, just like you.”

“Just like…!” Aurum lit up, and she hurried towards Ian. “You’re a Living Ship, too?”

Ian jumped when she took his hands, but he managed a shy smile at her, nodding nervously. “Y-yeah.” He replied, “My identification name is Stella Caduca. I-it’s nice to meet you.”

Aurum beamed at him. “Is Met your pilot?” She asked, and Met laughed, shaking his head.

“No. Ian won’t have his Choosing until much later.” he said, “After he’s had a bit of training with you. You’re always game to meet a new friend, right?”

Aurum was making more and more friends every day, really, but she never grew tired of meeting new people. She nodded enthusiastically, and shook Ian’s hands in hers. “The other Living Ships are either super busy or just aren’t around my age, so I’m glad I met someone like you!” She said cheerfully. “Can we be friends? Your wings are really pretty.”

Ian blinked at her owlishly, somehow fully overwhelmed by her affection, but he eventually smiled fondly, and nodded.

“I-I’m Pterii.” He replied, some semblance of pride in his voice, though it was still sheepishly peeking out from behind a guarded wall of shyness. “I was born on Da’an Pas. Lots of locals there are like this, you know! They have huge wings of every colour imaginable!”

“Whoa, that’s so cool!” Aurum gasped, stars in her eyes, and Ian nodded, now a little more energetically.

“I-I dunno if you’ve been there yet, a-and to be fair, I haven’t been there a while, too, but it’s really beautiful. W-we should go there together sometime!”

“Yeah!” Aurum replied, pulling Ian along with her to sit with her on the couch. Ren and Met hung back, bumping shoulders as they smiled fondly at the two children settling down on the couch.

“Wh-what’s your home planet like?” Ian asked, and Aurum paused.

“I, uh…” she cast a glance at Ren, who offered her a supportive smile. Ever since her Choosing, she and Ren had barely any chances to talk about Earth, what he could remember of it, what she could remember of it. Now, though, she at least had to be honest with Ian. “I don’t remember it much.”

“I see.” Ian’s smile was soft when she looked back at him, kind and understanding, as if he knew of a sadness as great as she had. “Well, if it improves your mood, let’s just make new memories for you.”

Aurum’s smile returned at that, and she nodded. “Thank you, Ian.”


	7. Neverwhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghosts linger in the past, as stars shoot forward into the future.

_Six months later_

“Right. Try that again, and you could kill Captain Ishigaki, kid.”

Aurum morphed back to her usual body, collapsing against the mannequin’s side as she laughed sheepishly at the frowning Ranaid girl across them in the hangar, her arms crossed. “Sorry, Blanc.” She said flatly, as Ian transformed back, too, hurrying over to them, giggling.

Blanc rolled her eyes, sighing loudly, but in the time they had spent with her, Aurum had learned not to take her reactions at face value. She didn’t really mean them, all the mild bullying and snarky remarks she shot at Ren and other Fleet officers sometimes, not when Blanc regularly snuck herself, Ian and Aurum extra desserts from the cafeteria before their training. Not when she was the first to offer Aurum a bandage on their first day of training.

Blanc was dishonest about her feelings in her own odd, roundabout way, but Aurum accepted that was just how she was. Everyone had _some_ fault to them, after all.

The eldest Living Ship of the three of them approached them sedately, as Aurum got back on her feet.

“Alright, we’re not gonna try you transforming around him again,” She said, “Like I said, you’re not allowed to try dangerous stunts while you’re still this inexperienced.” Ian snickered, and she flicked mucus from her finger to hit him square on the nose. He squeaked, and she snickered. “You too, Ian. So transforming into a new model-mid flight is too much, what more around your pilot, eh?” She raised an eyebrow at them, and Aurum sighed.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, but Blanc shook her head.

“Whatever. You’ve only been around half a year or something.” Blanc puffed her cheeks out, as if trying to look upset, but she failed spectacularly. She jabbed a long, thin finger in Ian’s direction. “You too, kid. It’ll take some time to learn.”

The two of them deflated slightly, and Blanc’s cheeks darkened.

“A-and, honestly, there’s only ever been one LS capable of transforming around their pilot, and it’s Andrew.” She said, and the two children blinked at her.

Was she trying to cheer them up?

Aurum smiled slowly, and Blanc refused to meet her eye. “S-shut up.”

“She hasn’t said anything, though.” Ian chuckled, and Blanc gave up and turned away from them.

“Oh, hell. _Fine_. There’s pudding in my bag. It’s on the bench.” She snapped, albeit with little venom. “You two only get one each, or I’ll tell the staff it’s been the two of you stealing sweets.”

Aurum and Ian cheered delightedly, running towards the bench to get their treats as Blanc stretched by herself in the middle of her hangar, pointedly trying not to make eye contact with them.

Blanc was always such an interesting person, to Aurum. Firstly, her species was something on the wilder side of things—Ranaids had slippery, bright-coloured skin, and Blanc’s violet-and-black skin matched the Fleet uniform violet amazingly. Her eyes were red, slit vertically, and it shocked her the first time she saw Blanc move them independently of each other.

(Ian had been so spooked he cried. It took Met hurrying to the Garrison proper from a meeting in the town to placate him.)

And despite being the sixth Living Ship—the one right before Aurum was—she was already good enough to be able to shift into different models mid-flight. She truly _was_ fitting to be the LS the Commander In Chief flew himself.

“Hey, Blanc?” Ian asked, after he had finished his pudding, and Aurum had realised she had even yet to begin with hers. She hurriedly tucked into her food as Blanc raised an eyebrow at him, cocking her head as she approached them. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already have.” Blanc replied flatly, taking her own cup of pudding, and Ian laughed sheepishly. She stuffed a mouthful into her mouth. “Shoot,” she said past the plastic spoon.

“Okay, um. You know how Andrew can go into your head?” He asked her and she hummed, sitting down next to him as she ate. “Can you do something like that?”

“No.” She said, and she suddenly disappeared. Ian and Aurum jolted, and they suddenly heard her laughter behind them. They whirled around to see Blanc standing behind them, waving the plastic spoon teasingly. “But I can do _that_.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Aurum breathed, as Ian exclaimed, “You can turn into a ghost?”

Blanc burst out in laughter. “Oh, my god. Ian. You’re hilarious.” She mock-wiped a tear away from the corner of her eyes. “No. I can turn invisible.” She grinned. “I’m the Shadowwalker, just like how Andrew is the Father. Get it?”

“I… think… so.” Ian replied slowly, as Aurum nodded.

“Alright.” Blanc sat down again next to them to finish off her pudding.

“Will we have our own powers?” Ian pressed, and Blanc nodded absently. The Pterii teen frowned, pursing his lips. “Where does it come from?” Ian continued, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Where does _what_ come from?”

“Your powers.”

Blanc cocked her head at him. “Curious today?” She asked, and he laughed sheepishly.

“W-well, um, Met and I have been talking…”

She grinned. “Well, _okay_.” She drawled. “Our powers come from Neverwhere.”

“Neverwhere?” Aurum echoed, and she clapped her hands.

“Enough questions for today! Let’s finish up your training and later you can figure the rest out yourselves.”

* * *

“Settle down, my children, settle down,” Andrew chuckled, and Aurum and Ian obediently fell quiet, settling down and looking up at him with expectant looks on their faces. “Good, that’s it. Now, what’s all this fuss about?”

“We heard from Blanc this afternoon,” Aurum began.

“About this thing called Neverwhere!” Ian finished, his wings fluffing up in excitement.

“Ah,” Andrew laughed, nodding. “Neverwhere. Yes.”

“She wouldn’t tell us anything!” Aurum continued, “And we tried looking it up, but the library people wouldn’t let us and Ren’s not home yet so I can’t ask him.”

“Met’s still on his mission, too.” Ian nodded. “And Dove, and Pance, too.”

“And what about Danajis?”

Ian and Aurum flushed. “We’re… too embarrassed to ask her.” Aurum admitted.

“Well, we _tried_ ,” Ian scratched the back of his neck, “But she told us it was just an old wives’ tale.”

Andrew laughed softly, and he sighed. “Well, Danajis has always been quite the serious woman.” he said. “Alright. Go and get your dinners and come find me in my hangar.”

Ian and Aurum lit up, and they hurried away, in a rush to head out towards the cafeteria. Andrew watched them leave, chuckling softly, only as he turned around, he saw a lavender-haired woman standing at the hatch leading towards the pitch-black Hangar Two. He paused, his eyes widening marginally as he stared back at her, barely just making out the silhouette of her black horns against the darkness behind her.

A Bosian. _She_ had been…

Andrew frowned at the silhouette. Ghosts of a time long passed, he thought. What he would give to turn back time to bring _her_ back. To know _why_ things happened they way they did.

The darkness that surrounded Hangar Two was impregnable. A thick, cloaking shroud that seemed to encompass and engulf anything that went inside it.

Andrew knew the lights just needed to be turned on. He could ask the Garrison to do that for him.

Quietly, he stepped forward towards the open doorway, and pressed his hand to the wall. He shut his eyes, and he could hear the white-noise of whispers that non-sentient technology made in his head. He could talk to Heartstones—but he could also talk to beings without them.

Though, instead of talking to people, it felt like giving pets orders to fetch toys from a box.

He opened his eyes again to see Hangar Two’s lights open again, and he stepped inside it to find it the way it always had been—empty, dusty and devoid of life. No, it wasn’t thirteen years ago when a beautiful Bosian Living Ship lived with her pilot on the second floor—the time was the present age, and above his head an apartment lay unused and dusty.

The smell of warm, home-baked goods no longer lingered.

Instead, the ghosts of the pasts haunted the place, static images of white shadows stealing across his vision every single time he visited her old home.

“Ah, my dear…” he sighed, and he lowered his head. “Welcome home.”

No one answered him, not even as he turned back around towards his own hangar, a deep, defeated sigh escaping his lips as he touched the Garrison’s wall again.

“The lights, please.” He murmured, and the ship obeyed him, plunging the hangar into darkness once again.

He almost jumped when he saw Aurum and Ian waiting for him near the doorway to his apartment, blinking at him in innocent confusion.

“Andrew?” Aurum asked as he approached them, cocking her head. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Andrew took a deep breath, peering back at the empty Hangar Two, and shook his head. “No, it is of little concern. Come along now, my children.”

Ian peered at the hatch where Andrew came from nervously. “Dove said Hangar 2 was haunted…” He said weakly, and Aurum paled.

“I-it can’t be.” She stammered. “A-Andrew…”

He looked down at them, and patted their heads reassuringly. “Dove is simply pulling your leg.” He said kindly, and Ian and Aurum looked relieved. “Come, now. To my apartment while we wait for Captain Ishigaki to return from the moonbase.”

Ian and Aurum ran up the stairs ahead of him, and Andrew smiled as he watched them go together, hand in hand. After their first meeting, the two were nigh inseparable, almost like siblings, training together, eating together, living together in the quarters provided for Captain Ishigaki and Aurum. He was glad they found kindred spirits in each other in such a short time. It was also nice to see Ian grow out of his stuttering phase. Time spent with Aurum ironed out his speech, and soon enough, he was as rapid-fire at speaking as his best friend was.

Physically, Ian wasn't that much older than Aurum was. He looked 15, a little smaller than the usual Pterii teenager, and he was still amused at how Ian’s wings had been blessed with one of the rarest colours among his species. White.

While beautiful on such an innocent child like him, Andrew knew the dangers of having wings like that. He heard the report General Orent had presented the day he and his team brought the latest Living Ship into the Fleet Garrison.

Captain Idiritri had found him running away from Naalian slave traders. He had been advertised as a toy meant to be reminiscent of the Pasian crown prince, and while the rest of the Fleet squadron was kept busy suddenly tracking down the rest of the syndicate, Captain Idiritri had his sights set on only Ian.

Andrew was glad for the Formican’s inability to say no to people in need. Even if Ian hadn't been a Living Ship, he would have saved him, no doubt. He didn't know he was one until Ian had demonstrated it in the middle of the marketplace, loudly, in the form of a particularly weak ion cannon blast.

There were no casualties, but Andrew remembered Danajis vividly reporting how a store vendor agonised over the loss of his cabbages.

(Knowing her, Andrew thought with no small amount of amusement, she may have swiped a leaf or two. Or a whole head.)

“Andrew, Andrew, we're here!” Ian tugged on his wrist gently, and the older Living Ship blinked, slowly realising that they were standing in front of the hatch to his quarters.

“Ah, so we are.” He nodded absently. He pressed his hand to the identification panel on the wall, and the door slid open. The two hurried inside gleefully, and Andrew followed after them at a more sedate pace, finding them already settling down on the couch next to the faux fireplace in Andrew’s living room.

He settled down calmly on the armchair next to them, and he chuckled when Ian and Aurum huddled together, their dinners already forgotten on the coffee table.

“Well.” He huffed softly. “Neverwhere. To many, it’s simply a fairy tale, as Danajis told you, but it should be fair for you two to know.” He cleared his throat. “ _While_ you eat your dinner.”

Ian and Aurum jolted, and they laughed sheepishly, pulling apart to start tucking into their meals.

“Neverwhere is a fabled place where all Living Ships come from, according to some versions of the story.” He said, “Others believe it is the source of all the things in the universe—matter, energy, light, all of it, from that single place.”

He huffed fondly. “Of course, such a curious place would have doubters. Many people pass it off as an old wives’ tale, and others believe that Neverwhere is a thing, like a treasure, rather than a place.” He hummed softly as he sat back in his seat, careful not to catch his antlers on his armchair. “It has been said that our powers take root there, directly tapping into Neverwhere’s limitless power, to allow us our special abilities.”

“Oh, like your Father skill,” Ian said past his mouthful of food, and Andrew tutted.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Ian.” He chided.

Aurum struggled to swallow her mouthful of food before speaking.

“What are my and Ian’s?” she asked, “You’ve been in our heads, right? Do you know?”

Andrew shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my dear. Your powers will present on their own, in time.” He patted her head. “Does my story of Neverwhere satisfy the both of you?”

Ian hummed. “Um, has anyone actually been there? To Neverwhere?”

“Well, if anyone did, it wouldn’t be called an old wives’ tale, now would it?” Andrew chuckled, and Ian flushed, embarrassed. “Worry not. There have been numerous attempts, for sure. But no one has ever been there. No one has ever quite figured out how to get there.”

Andrew couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Ian and Aurum listening to him intently.

“Some people think us Living Ships are the answer to that riddle. Perhaps _we_ hold the answer to the elusive riddle that is Neverwhere, but none of us have ever tried going there.”

“None of us,” Aurum said suddenly. “But _me_.”

Andrew paused, and he watched her sit up straight. “I’m gonna find it, Andrew.” Determination shone in her eyes. “Everyone’s managed to do something great before me. You’re the first LS. Dove’s a prize-winning engineer. Pance and Danajis are war veterans. Blanc flies with the Commander-in-Chief himself.” She huffed, and put down her dinner to stand up.

“I’m going to find Neverwhere.”

Andrew blinked at her. “Why, my dear, that—”

“And she won’t be alone.” Ian nodded, and he stood up, too. Behind him, his wings flared up, and it made him look the elegant Pterii he was. “We’ll find Neverwhere, the _both_ of us.”

He couldn’t deny the determination that shone in their expressions. Andrew huffed fondly, and he nodded. “Very well. It is wonderful to see the both of your with a goal in life.”

They beamed at him, and Aurum nodded. “I’ve decided—I’m gonna be a fighter ship.”

“And I’ll be a bomber ship!” Ian agreed, “So we’ll match. I’ve got your back, and you’ll have mine!”

“Yeah!” Aurum held her fist up to him, and he bumped his against hers. “We’ll find Neverwhere together!”

They looked back at Andrew, and the man laughed fondly behind his hand.

“I think Captain Ishigaki and Captain Idiritri would be glad to hear that.” He said, “To fly as fighters is freedom, after all.”


	8. Foreboding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has a bad feeling about things.

_Two months later_

“Ian’s Choosing is coming up soon.”

“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you nervous?”

Met lowered his datapad to see Ren hadn’t been reading his debriefing report, instead looking at Met with concern marring his face. He sighed, and he put his own datapad down completely to rest his chin on his hand.

“A little,” he admitted, “I don’t know if Ian will choose me.”

Ren gave him a warm smile. “Have some faith in him. You know he will.”

Met’s replying smile was withering, unsure.

“I guess. But there’s also something else.”

Ren cocked his head at him. “Something else?”

“I just have this gut feeling something really bad is going to happen.” Met frowned, biting his lip. “It’s been sitting in my gut for a while now, and I don’t like it.”

Ren frowned. “Is it about the Choosing?”

“Yeah.” Met glanced out the window of the office they sat in, overlooking the LS hangar 5. They could see Ian practicing his transformation of his chosen ship, a bomber model, Accipit GL-200, alongside Aurum and their teacher for that day, Danajis. “It started with Aurum’s Choosing ceremony. Something felt… off.”

“That’s been a long while in your head.” Ren frowned. “I’m guessing you’re worried the same will go for Ian?” Ren asked, and Met bumped their shoulders together, more to reassure himself than Ren.

“Yeah.” He said uneasily, as Aurum transformed this time, in her own chosen model, a fighter class ship, the Accipit PJ-613. “I can’t help but feel like… this whole sketchy thing started with Aurum’s Choosing. Maybe even before that.”

“What, like Ian’s Choosing?” Ren rubbed Met’s arm. “That sounds like a stretch, buddy.”

“I know, but you can’t help but feel… _odd_ about it.” Met shook his head, sighing deeply. “I dunno. Anyway, weren’t you planning on giving something to Aurum soon?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ren nodded, pulling out a small remote with a button on it from his breast pocket. “I got her a panic button.”

“What for?” Met cocked his head at him, and Ren gave him a withering smile.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re not the only one going nuts with worry.” He sighed, putting it back into his pocket. “Recently, the generals have been… worse than usual. I mean—you know most people already don’t like me because I’m a human and all that—” He stopped when he saw Met’s crestfallen expression, and he smiled sadly. “You know it’s true.”

“I know.” Met replied, shaking his head. “Doesn’t mean I have to _like_ it.”

Ren shrugged, and comfortingly leaned on Met’s side instead. “There’s the whole thing I did with Aurum, too.”

Met squeezed his hand. “You did the right thing.” he said stiffly, and Ren huffed.

“I know I did.” He replied. “But now… it’s like they’re trying to _do something_.” He frowned down at the hangar again, worry creasing his brow. “Aurum and Ian haven’t had combat training yet. I just want to make sure they’re safe.”

Met sighed. “I hate this.”

“Me too.” Ren agreed, and the two of them settled down, sides pressed next to each other. “But this is the best we can do right now.”

“I know.” Ren leaned against him, and Met let him. “But this is the best we can do right now.”

The two looked down at the two Living Ships being let off from their training that day, Danajis handing them each a sandwich, as she always did, before the two hurried away, off to their usual spot at the low bars of the light fixtures of Danajis’s hangar to watch her work.

Met’s hand balled into a fist. “I hope it’s enough.”

It _had_ to be.

* * *

Today’s sandwiches from Danajis had jam that were home-made from a bittersweet fruit. Tart, and tropical in taste, a bright yellow, and the perfect ripeness for it to not be too bitter, but not too sweet. They liked to imagine it was stars it tasted like, with the friendly yellow the fruit jam was. It was Aurum’s favourite.

“Have you decided on who you'll choose yet?” Aurum asked, waving her feet back and forth over the ledge. Far below them, the hangar slowly began to calm down, and the two of them watched as Danajis morphed back to her usual form, her beautiful blue butterfly wings fluttering behind her as she shook her head and shoulders, wrapping her shawl over her head and antennae once more.

“Hmm.” Ian hummed through the sandwich in his mouth, and he swallowed, wincing. “Yeah! I want Met to be my pilot.”

Aurum lit up. “Really?”

“I like Met.” Ian nodded. “He reads me stories at night and he flies me really well.” The blond leaned against her and sighed. “And that way, the four of us won't ever be apart, right?” He grinned. “We’ll find Neverwhere together. All four of us.”

Aurum nodded, too, biting her own sandwich, content.

“How about you, Aurum? Have you chosen a name yet?”

She hesitated, before she shook her head. “It’s still too soon, I think. I can’t think of one.”

“It’s okay.” Ian shrugged. “Maybe after my Choosing ceremony?”

She smiled at him. “Yeah, probably.”

Ian nodded. “But on the topic of names, y’know, Met read me this interesting story the other night.” He took a bite out of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “The main character reminded me a lot of you.”

She swallowed down her mouthful of fruit and bread, and cocked her head at him.

“His name was Ricky.” He continued. “Zastrian. An explorer. He was looking for this place that’s kinda like Neverwhere, if I think about it.” He gave her a grin.

“Did he find it?” Aurum asked.

“Yeah.” Ian nodded. “And I’m sure you will, too.”

Aurum’s smile was warm. “You know, Ian… I like that name. It’s cute.”

“Isn’t it?” Ian nodded, grinning.

“Though, I guess I'd like to change the spelling.” Aurum hummed. “Like… R-I-C-K-I. Ricki.”

“Yeah, that's cute! I like it. It suits you.”

Aurum smiled at him sweetly. “But I don't know yet. I'll think about it some more.”

Ian nodded, and they jumped when they heard a voice call them from below.

“Aurum! Ian!” Ren called them from the hangar floor. “Time to head back!”

“Okay!” They called back, climbing down to meet up with him. Ren gave them both a tired smile, and Aurum took his hand. “You look really tired, Ren.” She said, and he shrugged, laughing softly.

“There's been a lot of stuff on my mind.” He told her, patting her head before letting Ian take his other hand. “What did Danajis give the two of you today?”

“She made us those yellow fruit sandwiches!” Ian cheerfully reported, “The ones Aurum likes.”

“Ah, I see.” Ren nodded, “So the two of you will be too full to have dessert later tonight, right?”

“No!” They simultaneously gasped, and Ren laughed.

“We'll see, we’ll see.” He said cheerfully. “Ian, Andrew wanted to talk to you about your Choosing tonight. We’ll go to Hangar 1 and Aurum and I will wait for you outside his door, okay?”

The blond looked nervous, but he nodded, and the three of them began walking out of Danajis’s hangar.

Ian looked like he wanted to say something, and Ren smiled fondly.

“What is it, Ian?” He asked gently, and the Pterii jumped.

“I-I, uh,” he stammered. “I'm a little nervous. About the Choosing.”

“Don't worry about it.” Ren told him reassuringly. “It’s your choice that they'll honour when you make it. You can choose anyone you like.” He ruffled Ian’s hair, earning him bright peals of laughter. “And no one’s allowed to protest. You have the right to choose who you want.”

“Yeah.” Aurum nodded. “There were a lot of people who didn't like the fact I chose Ren, but General Maclaine said he could be my pilot.”

Ian blinked up at Ren, surprised, and he laughed sheepishly.

“Yeah, uh… things happened, but the point was that I wasn't qualified to fly her by Fleet standards, but she chose me anyway.” He said.

Aurum beamed. “So you'll be okay, Ian.” She said. “You can have anyone you like as your pilot.”

He cheered up a little at that, and he nodded.

“Thanks, the both of you.” He said meekly, as they came to a stop at Andrew’s door.

“Go on, then.” Ren gestured at the door. “We'll be right out here to wait for you.”

Ian nodded nervously and knocked on Andrew’s door. It slid open to reveal Andrew smiling at them, and Ian looked back at Ren and Aurum.

“See you two in a bit.” He said, stepping inside after Andrew, and the door slid shut behind him.

Left alone together outside, Ren sighed, making Aurum look up at him, her head cocked.

“Something wrong?” She asked, and Ren pulled her aside, kneeling down to look her in the eye.

“Aurum, you know the circumstances of us being together are a little… shaky.” He said carefully, and she bit her lip. “You and Ian aren’t old enough to have combat training just yet, so I… got you this.” He pulled out the panic button from his jacket pocket, deflating slightly as Aurum’s eyes widened at the sight of it. He pressed the little device into her hand, and wrapped her fingers around it, squeezing her hand in his gently.

“I want you to use this to call me, whenever you or Ian are in trouble, okay? I know the two of you won’t be apart for a long time to come, so while I save up for another one, share this between the two of you.”

Aurum nodded uneasily, lowering her hand to put the button in her pocket. “I hope I won’t ever have to use it.” She said, and Ren nodded, before he kissed her forehead.

“Neither do I.” He said, getting back up. “Now, let’s just—” He cut himself off when his phone rang, and he looked down at it, surprised. “…I just got off duty.” He murmured as he frowned, but he answered it. “Met? What’s up?”

Aurum shuffled on her feet uneasily as she waited for Ren’s call to finish. Her pilot sighed deeply, as Met explained something on the other side, before he hung up with a tired goodbye.

“Did something come up?” She asked, and he nodded, ruffling her hair.

“General Orent called for a meeting. Looks like the Choosing’s happening real soon.” He told her, “Head straight back to the apartment, okay? It’s just past Hangar 2, and then the shortcut home should still be open at this time.”

Aurum nodded, and she hesitated.

“Ren—” She began, as Ren turned to leave. He looked back at her, and she could feel her gut churning in worry. She wondered if Ren felt the same.

Oh, she remembered this: Blanc once told her Living Ships could feel as their pilot does. When they were worried, when they were hurt—they shared in their pilot’s emotions, halving the pain they felt. Maybe this was Ren’s worry seeping into her.

“Please hug me.” She blurted out, and he blinked at her. Aurum blushed, and she scratched her cheek nervously. “Ian said… hugging it out made people feel better.”

Ren sighed fondly, smiling, and he knelt down to hug her tightly. If it felt a little tighter than it usually felt, Aurum didn’t say anything, hugging him back and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“Goodnight, Ren.” She mumbled.

“Goodnight, Aurum.” He replied, stroking her hair before reluctantly letting her go. He cast one last look at her, before hesitantly walking away. She watched him leave, her gut sinking more and more as Ren’s worry clawed at her chest, and she could almost cry at the discomfort.

Suddenly the door to Andrew’s room hissed open, and Aurum jumped, squeaking in surprise to see Ian standing in the doorway, his head cocked.

“Aurum, you okay?” he asked her as he stepped outside, and she sighed deeply in relief.

“I'm fine.” She replied.

“Where's Ren?” He asked, and the door slid shut behind him.

“He got called off to a meeting.” Aurum said, and she took Ian’s hand. “He told me to just go ahead back home.” He nodded, and the two of them began to walk. “What did Andrew talk to you about?”

Ian grinned. “My Choosing is tomorrow.” He said, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, my gosh.” She breathed.

“I’m so excited I can hardly contain myself.” He bounced on his heels as they passed from Andrew’s Hangar and into Hangar 2. The darkness of the hangar only intensified in the simulated night of the Garrison, and Aurum came to a stop to look down at it. Ian paused, and he cocked his head. “Aurum?” He asked.

She jumped slightly, and she shook her head, looking back at Ian. “S-so, uh. You really will choose Met, right?”

Ian beamed at her. “Yep. Definitely.” He nodded. “That's what Andrew wanted to talk to me about. He asked me if I had chosen someone, and I told him I chose Met.” He squeezed Aurum’s hand in his. “He said he was glad that I made my own decision in choosing him.”

“Me too!” Aurum agreed, relieved to feel something other than worry that evening. “I can't wait for tomorrow! Met’s gonna be so happy!”

Ian nodded, his cheeks flushing. “I can't wait for tomorrow. I might not even be able to sleep.”

Aurum giggled, and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, and the two of them laughed.

“After Met moves into Hangar 8’s apartment with you, let's set up a door between our apartments.” She said. “It'll be like we're roommates instead of neighbours!”

“I'd like that.” Ian nodded as he pulled away. “We'll have breakfast together all the time and Met can finally learn to cook properly.”

“And Ren can scold us for doing chores late, and we'd stay up all night reading with Met.” Aurum sighed. “It's gonna be great.”

“And then, Neverwhere.” Ian’s expression was determined, and Aurum nodded.

“And then, Neverwhere.” She agreed, and Ian held his fist up. She smiled, and bumped her fist against his.

Suddenly, the door at the end of the corridor leading to Hangar 3 slid open, and Aurum and Ian turned to see an unfamiliar lavender-haired woman with pitch-black horns.

She was similar to Pance—perhaps a related species—but she had a curvier, softer body that seemed to melt in a deep black dress. Her hair was a soft lavender colour, long, soft-looking and wavy, reaching down to her waist. She was beautiful, but the pallor of her skin made her look dead, and the red of her eyes froze Aurum’s blood in her veins.

“Who—” she began, as she felt a tug at her chest, but her world fell into black.

The last thing she heard was Ian screaming her name, and warmth pooling across her body.


	9. Transitory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A star goes out.

Ren stifled a yawn for the fourth time that meeting.

He didn't even know what he was doing there, really. This meeting was on security and logistics of Ian’s Choosing ceremony the next day, wrapping up final touches on task delegation before the actual event at 10 in the morning.

He wasn't even part of the preparation committee.

Beside him he felt Met bump their shoulders, and he almost laughed at seeing his best friend nod in sleep, and he jabbed him—rather painfully—in the ribs to wake him up. Met glowered at him, but said nothing, as Orent continued to talk.

Ren tried his best to concentrate—intently staring at Orent as the Aurorean man talked. General Phosphos Orent was a stalwart kind of man, many angles in squares in a neat stack, as many citizens of the planet Lu Aurore tended to grow into. His hair was a soft orange colour, growing white at his temples as he steadily approached his twilight years by Aurorean standards, and the same orange-and-white colour dusted the fur bunched around his neck. When he stood next to his Living Ship, Stella Fulgore, they could pass off as a father and his daughter—provided that said stone-faced, hard-angled father was a different species than his mischievous Felid daughter.

Despite living with Aurum for almost a full year now, Ren had yet to meet Stella Fulgore—Dove—properly. She was almost always either too concentrated on training Aurum and Ian, or cooped up in her workshop of technological wonders to pay attention to him. It was odd, really, that Dove rarely went on missions with her pilot. He heard stories from other officers that Dove used to go on missions with Orent all the time, but for some reason, the two began to fall out a few years ago. No one knew why.

It was rather painful, really, and Ren could understand why Orent was now severe and not the smiling General some officers in higher batches told them about. A ship and their pilot were connected after all. What negative emotion one felt, they shared with the other. Perhaps Orent could feel Dove’s resentment, and Dove could feel Orent’s remorse.

He didn’t want to end up the same with Aurum, he thought.

Ren’s mind wandered back to Aurum and Ian, whom he had left in Andrew’s hangar. He wondered if they were home already, and what dessert he should prepare in celebration for Ian’s Choosing day.

Suddenly the whole Garrison shuddered, and Ren felt a stabbing sensation in his temple. He gasped, and doubled over onto the table. Met jumped up from his seat, shocked as he held Ren steady, as in the front, Orent also swayed precariously, before leaning against the wall.

“What the—” Met looked down at Ren, who groaned in his hold. “What’s going on?”

Another captain hurried to Orent’s side to help him sit down on a chair. “General Orent, are you okay?”

“Dove,” He gasped, “I have to check on Dove.” He frowned, unsteadily getting up, “Captain Ishigaki, it would be prudent for you to check on Aurum as well.”

Ren blinked at him, his eyes unfocused from the pain, but he nodded, and he tried getting up. He stumbled forward, and Met caught him. “Ren—”

Suddenly, a terrible buzz erupted from Ren’s pocket, and his eyes widened as he was shocked into stark clarity.

“Aurum!” He gasped, pulling out his phone quickly, to see the panic button signal coming from the Hangar 2 apartment link corridor. He looked up at Met, who nodded. “Let’s go.”

Met practically carried Ren there, supporting him as the two ran as fast as they could towards Hangar 2. The lights followed behind them, clanging loudly open as they burst into the abandoned hangar, where the metal creaked, and an undisturbed layer of dust carpeted the floor. Behind them another group of Fleet officers followed, but they continued onwards, not waiting for them to catch up.

“Come on,” Met grunted, tugging on Ren’s hand, and the two of them hurried into the apartment staircase, before bursting into the corridor where the distress signal came from.

Met and Ren froze in their places, as horror creeped into their gut.

Aurum lay unconscious, propped against the glass of the wall overlooking the hangar, visible from the ground below them, where Fleet officers had spilled into the hangar in time to see Ren and Met make their discovery. In front of her, facedown on the ground, was Ian, lying in a steadily-growing pool of blood underneath him. It seemed they had been there for not too long; the blood was still flowing and warm, but it had spilled nearly everywhere to the point it stained the window, painting the glass panes at either side of Aurum a deep, unsettling red.

Aurum herself was covered in blood— _Ian’s_ blood, and Ren’s heart sank to his gut when he saw what was held loosely in her hand.

A beautiful, bloodied fire opal dagger with a silver hilt, where a carved viper snaked around three glimmering sapphires.

The group of officers finally caught up to them, and Ren and Met were bodily pushed aside as people filed in. The hatch leading from Hangar 3 opened to reveal a dishevelled Orent, panting softly as he approached the gruesome scene, and the hatch from Hangar 1 opened to let a stone-faced Maclaine stride inside.

Orent came to a stop a foot away from the edge of Ian’s pool of blood, and Maclaine stood a little closer to Aurum’s unconscious body.

“Captain Ishigaki,” She said flatly, “To your apartment. You are not to join in this investigation until further notice. Captain Met, escort him, and make sure he does not interfere.”

“G-General Maclaine, Aurum is my—” Ren began to protest, but she glowered at him, her expression fierce.

“Speak out of line again, Captain, and you will find yourself implicated in this as well.” She snapped. “Stella Aurum is to be taken into custody under the suspicion of murdering Stella Caduca.”

Ren’s expression fell, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Met held his shoulder. He looked back at him, eyes desperate, but he shook his head.

“Come on, Ren. There’s nothing we can do here.” He said quietly, but Ren could see the despair in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

He grasped Ren by the wrist and led him back downstairs into the eerie abandoned emptiness of Hangar 2, and Ren looked out at the stars beyond the hangar exit.

“Met, Ian’s—”

“I know.” Met’s reply was strained, and his hand around Ren’s wrist tightened just a small fraction. “I… I _know_.”

Ren fell silent, and let Met lead him along towards Hangar 7. Just as he passed through the threshold between Hangar 2 and 3, Ren spotted a horned lavender-haired woman seated atop a rusted cargo box, and his eyes widened as they met hers.

She gave him a slow smirk, and he was through the threshold and into Hangar 3, where the staff were abuzz with activity, rushing to get disconnected, powered-down systems back online. Ren blinked dazedly, but he couldn’t do more than let Met pull him along back home.

* * *

“Report.”

General Maclaine looked up from where she had been watching the forensic investigators scouring the scene to see Commander Cadeyrn stride into the corridor from Hangar 1’s hatch, Andrew at his heels and looking worse for wear.

She had always thought that Cadeyrn looked like a statue—a stern, stone-like face with a marble-cut jaw, sunken eyes that seemed too old and yet too young, and his uniform around him was always impeccable. Like that, truly, he seemed a model soldier of the Fleet Garrison, but Maclaine could barely stand the sight of him.

Still, she kept that sentiment to herself. Aside from his external appearance, there was little else people—herself included—knew about Cadeyrn. According to his records, he came from the Centrus System, but had not declared exactly where, and he had not offered a sure race on his record. He was a rather aloof man, hardly spoke to anyone and had no time for joking around, and the only other thing Maclaine knew of him was that he was a few years younger than her.

“Commander.” She gave him a salute, which he returned with one of his own. Maclaine gave a respectful bow at Andrew. “Stella Prima.”

Andrew nodded tiredly, his flowers seemingly drooping accordingly. “The children, are they—”

“Stella Aurum was simply unconscious.” Maclaine spoke to Cadeyrn as she said this, tearing her eyes away from the fear in Andrew’s gentle eyes. “Stella Caduca, unfortunately, is dead.”

“Cause of death?” Cadeyrn raised an eyebrow as beside him, Andrew deflated, horror growing on his face. Maclaine felt sorry for the man—a gentle, fatherly Living Ship that he was, he thought of all the Living Ships as his children. To lose his youngest so far…

Her hand curled in a tight fist to keep her emotions in check.

“He was stabbed, sir.” She reported stiffly, almost apologetically at Andrew, who gasped softly, his hand shooting to his mouth. “Through the Heartstone. Inspector Hardit?”

A Ranaid young woman in a white slime-proof coat jolted, and she nodded, getting up and hurrying over to Maclaine’s side to give her two sealed clear plastic bags. Maclaine gave her a nod of thanks, and showed them to Cadeyrn and Andrew.

“This is Stella Caduca’s Heartstone.” She said, holding up one of the bags, containing a bronze chip that had been snapped in two. Blood seeped out from where the chip was cracked, and upon closer inspection, tiny, shimmering white tendrils waved to and fro from the cracks. Andrew shook his head, paling as he turned away from the sight, while Cadeyrn peered at it with mild curiosity.

Gently he took the bag from Maclaine to inspect the broken Heartstone carefully, before nodding. “Have this stored in the administration storage facility.” He said, “I will have General Orent lead the investigation of this Heartstone.”

“Sir.” Maclaine nodded reluctantly, and Andrew jolted.

“You will not have it buried with him?” He gasped, and Cadeyrn looked at him coldly. Any normal person would have withered under that gaze, Maclaine knew, but Andrew was as brave as he was protective. He may be a complete pacifist now, but she had seen him back in his time as an actively serving member of the Fleet’s army. “Taxis, that is—”

“This is the first-ever recorded circumstance that a Living Ship has died, Stella Prima.” Cadeyrn interrupted him easily. “We need to learn _everything_ about how your kind operates. Imagine if the Heartstone was dangerous—an explosion, perhaps, could tear the Garrison apart, and all because of the fact we did not handle it carefully.”

Andrew hesitated, and drew back, defeated.

Cadeyrn seemed satisfied with Andrew’s withdrawal, and looked back at Maclaine. “The other bag, General?”

She nodded once, and held up the bag for him to inspect. “This was the murder weapon.”

Inside the bag was a bejewelled dagger, and Andrew’s eyes widened at the design on the hilt.

“No, that cannot be…” He breathed, shaking his head. “That—that is—”

“Hm.” Cadeyrn hummed. “Has the origin of this blade been determined?”

“According to my private investigations, it is Pasian, sir.” She said gravely, reluctant to be saying all this in front of Andrew, but she knew he needed to know this. For all their sakes.

“Hm, then perhaps it is Stella Caduca’s.” Cadeyrn nodded. “Or, perhaps, Stella Prima, have you any idea about this?” He looked at the Living Ship, an eyebrow raised.

Andrew reared back in shock, as if he had been slapped. The flowers on his antlers shook in his rage. “That is—that is _impossible_!” he gasped, “He is just a _child!_ ”

Cadeyrn smiled slowly, insincere and sharp like the knife stained with Ian’s blood. “Stella Prima, ‘ _is_ just a child’? Are you perhaps implying _another_ culprit in this?” He gave the man a halfhearted bow. “By all means, do tell us what you know.”

“You’re impossible.” Maclaine didn’t know Andrew had it in him to _snarl_ at people, though she couldn’t blame him for how Cadeyrn spoke to him.

Cadeyrn scoffed, shaking his head. “Very well. Do allow the Fleet to conduct the investigation. We will need your ability to interview Stella Aurum, if necessary, though should you be too compromised by the circumstances, then Stella Fulgore’s abilities will do just as well.”

Andrew made a move to say something, when Maclaine cleared her throat. He shared a look with her, and she looked back at him determinedly, before he relented.

“Very well.” He stiffly said. “Where may I see Aurum?”

“In the infirmary.” Maclaine replied, unheard in her words a whispered, _thank you_. “If it would placate you, she will be right there until the trial.”

Andrew’s frown at her made him look disappointed, but he reluctantly nodded, turning on his heel and striding away without another word. Cadeyrn and Maclaine watched him leave silently, and when the hatch door slid shut, Cadeyrn spoke.

“General Maclaine,” He said, “Let me handle this investigation.”

Maclaine glowered at him. “I assure you, sir, I can handle this perfectly well on my own.”

Cadeyrn stared her down. “That is an _order_.”

She shook, silently enraged, but she reluctantly handed him the data pad, practically shoving it in his hands, before stalking away, downstairs into Hangar 2’s docking bay. The crime scene investigators shared nervous looks, but Cadeyrn simply waved them off, standing at the window to look down at the hangar, tracing the paths made by old, rusting cargo boxes, and rotting wooden crates.

He saw _her_ , beautiful— _dead_ —voluptuous and lavender-haired, sitting atop a rusting cargo box, and she smiled up at him. He simply looked back at her, and she gave him a mock salute, slinging a long, toned leg over the other to roll off the box, disappearing into the shadows between them.

“Sir?” Hardit cautiously approached him, and he turned to look down at her, simply raising an eyebrow in response. “We, uh… if you don’t mind as much, sir, we—uh, my team and I—were kinda curious if you knew where the dagger came from. It’s beautiful.”

Cadeyrn looked back at the hangar, and smirked slowly.

“The Pasian empire is very rich in resources,” he said, “I’ve heard stories of long ago, when the old Crown Prince was still alive, he and his brother frequented the Pasian-allied planet Penxos, the only place where the blade’s ore could be found.” Cadeyrn turned to smile warmly at the investigator, but she only shivered. “I've heard he was quite the artisan.”

“Sir, are you implying…” She began uneasily, but Cadeyrn laughed her off.

“He's been dead for seven years now.” He said, not answering her question. “We will verify the dagger’s origin much later. It is late, and I'm sure you all have homes to return to.”

“A-ah, yeah…” Hardit smiled weakly. “Thanks, sir.”

Cadeyrn nodded, and watched them hurry to finish off their investigation. He looked back at the hangar bay, and found the woman standing at the plasma-sealed doorway out into space.

He watched her look around carefully, before leaning far, far forward, and falling out.


	10. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The proverbial snowball begins to roll.

Aurum was lucid in her dream. She could see every vivid detail shown to her as she slipped deeper and deeper into her subconscious.

When her world faded to black, she opened her eyes to find herself sitting at the floor of a beautiful temple carved out of what looked like a single, awesome piece of deep violet marble.

Over her head, and around her, shone the stars and the nebulae of the universe, scattered pinks and purples and blues over black and dotted with small glimmering points. The place was surreal, she thought. It was beautiful, and it wasn't like anything she had ever heard of.

It felt like Neverwhere, she realised.

It felt like home.

She shakily got up, somehow feeling simultaneously tired and at peak condition, to first take note of where she was standing. A huge, plain platform, decorated by four pillars at each corner, unfamiliar patterns and designs inscribed on it. In the middle, right in front of her, was a pair of huge double doors, and she jumped when she saw who was standing at one of them.

“Ian!” She shouted, her voice carrying over the eerie silence of the temple to catch his attention. He stopped, and turned around to see her. He lit up, but then seemed to realise something, and deflated. He managed a sheepish smile at her as his wings folded around him protectively, and Aurum hurried to his side to take his hand and squeeze it. “Ian.” She breathed, “Where are we?”

“Home.” He said simply, letting go of her hand, and her expression fell. Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Aurum, but this is where we have to say goodbye.”

“Goodb—what do you—where are you going?”

“I’m going to miss you.” Ian had tears in his eyes. “I know we haven’t known each other for too long, but I’ve always felt like we were family.” He sniffled slightly, and Aurum held his hands again. “You, me, Andrew, the other Living Ships, Ren, Met…” He broke down into tears, and he hung his head. “F-family. I’m… I’m so, so glad to have had you all as family.”

“We _are_ family,” Aurum insisted, and the double-doors began to open, revealing a bright light behind them. “Where are you going? Wh-why do you have to go?”

“I’m going home, Aurum.” Ian said, and Aurum looked at him pleadingly as she clung onto his hand. “I have to go.”

“C-can I go with you?” She asked weakly, but he shook his head.

“This is a place where you can’t follow me into.” He replied, his voice brittle over his throat tightening up with his tears. “It’s… it’s not your time yet.”

“I—”

“If you want to find me,” he continued, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “Go find my heart, and that will lead you home.”

“Wh—I don’t understand—Ian, what do you mean?”

He gave her one last sad smile.

“Be good to Met and Ren, okay?” He said. “Make them happy.” He kissed her forehead, and she felt her tears roll down her face. “Goodbye, Aurum.”

He hugged her tightly, wrapping his wings around her, and she hugged him back, reluctantly letting go when he pulled away. He cupped her face in his hand one more time, before walking away into the light through the door.

Aurum stood there, rooted to the ground, sobbing, as the door shut and clicked.

And then her dream was over.

She woke up to see Andrew leaning over her, his hand pressed to her forehead, and she realised he had also been watching her dream. There were tears in his eyes, and she reached up to him dazedly, only for him to grasp her hand and squeeze it.

“Ian…” he breathed softly, fighting the tremor in his voice. “Has gone home to Neverwhere, has he.”

Aurum’s eyes widened, as Andrew’s head dropped. She could see teardrops fall onto the sheets of her bed, and she realised she was in the infirmary.

“Where’s… Ren…?” she mumbled, and Andrew looked back at her, eyes soft with pity.

“I apologise, my dear, but he is under house arrest until your trial.”

“My… trial?” Aurum echoed.

Andrew stroked her hair, sighing deeply.

“You have been charged with murdering Ian.” He said quietly, and her eyes widened.

“N-no… Ian, he's really…” Aurum's voice shook. “I-I didn't kill him, I couldn't…”

Andrew hushed her gently. “My child, tell me the truth. What happened that night?”

Aurum shook, and she began to cry. Andrew pulled her up into a hug, smoothing his hand over her back reassuringly as she dissolved into sobs.

Her words were garbled by her tears, but he didn't mind, not when he could hear directly the anguish in her heart.

“W-we were o-on the way back from y-your hangar a-and we took the Hangar 2 apartment shortcut. W-we were just talking about I-Ian’s Choosing an-and then this lady showed up from Hangar 3.”

Andrew’s eyes widened. “What lady?”

Aurum shook her head. “I dunno who she was. C-curvy. Lavender hair. Horns.” She buried her face in the crook of Andrew’s neck. “She looked dead.”

Andrew _knew_ who that was.

The ghost of Living Ships past, he had called her.

“A-and then, everything went black.” She finished. “I-I don't know what happened… Ian's dead?”

The disbelief in her voice felt like a knife to the gut.

“Yes.” Andrew said. “And you've been blamed for it.”

Aurum’s little body shook. “But I _didn't._ ”

“I know.” Andrew stroked her hair. “But I hope things will clear out in the end. The evidence isn't enough to convict you, I'm sure of it.”

Aurum could only cling to him and nod.

She missed Ren.

“My child,” Andrew said to her after a long moment of silence. “Please do not let things end here like this.”

Aurum paused, and she looked up at Andrew, head cocked. He gave her a sad smile, and he cupped her face in his hand.

“I will teach you something very, very important. I want you to remember this, especially when things get exceptionally difficult.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I hope things will never get down to it,” Andrew sighed, as he pressed two fingers to Aurum’s temple. “But should the need arise for you to save your pilot’s life, my dear,” he shut his eyes, and Aurum gasped softly when she felt his presence in her mind. “Then I will teach you how to transform around the person you wish to protect.”

* * *

The trial was later that afternoon.

Ren hadn't seen Aurum in what felt like ages. In reality, it had only been three days.

Three days of house arrest, with only Met for company. They spent it curled up next to each other on the couch, silently sharing in their grief.

Grief over Ian’s loss, over Aurum’s conviction.

Met had run out of tears by the dawn after Ian died. The moment they stepped into Ren’s apartment, he broke down, the two of them sinking to the floor in front of the door, Ren holding him close as he emptied out his tears on his shoulder.

They didn't move from that spot until the next morning.  

Three days later and barely functioning, Ren woke up on an empty stomach, blinking dazedly as he sat up in bed, shucking off Met’s arm slung over his waist to the sound of his phone ringing. He groaned softly, picking it up to see it was Aphis calling. The sight shocked him into waking—he hadn't heard from her in _ages_.

“Aphis.” He breathed when he answered her call, and beside him Met groaned softly.

“ _Hi, Ren. I heard what happened and I came back as soon as I can from Bombis. Are you okay? Is_ Met _okay?_ ”

Ren groaned, and he ran his hand down his face. “It's been a long week.” He sighed. “You’re back at the Garrison?”

“ _Yeah. I’m heading right over to your place to pick you and Met up off your asses._ ” She deadpanned, and Ren laughed tiredly. “ _I can tell this is wrecking the both of you, but you have to get up today. I heard the trial is later this afternoon._ ”

“It is.” Ren rolled out of bed, wincing as he looked outside at the simulated daylight. “What time is it?”

“ _A little before lunch. Open up, I’m at the door._ ”

Ren jumped, hurrying out of bed to head to the front door. He knew Aphis had a habit of repeatedly pressing the doorbell until someone answered the door, and he didn’t want Met to wake up with a nasty wake-up call like that.

The door slid open, revealing Aphis, looking impeccable as ever in her uniform, her curly hair up in her usual twin buns to manage it. She crossed her arms as she looked at him disdainfully.

“Look at you,” she said, “You look a downright mess. Have you and Met been eating properly?”

She pushed past him to peer inside the apartment, and found boxes of take-out on the coffee table. She scowled. “Charming.”

“Sorry.” Ren mumbled, but he jumped when she suddenly hugged him.

“I’m sorry about Aurum.” She mumbled, squeezing him tightly. “And Ian. I know you and Met loved them very much.”

Ren stiffened up, before gingerly hugging her back, melting into her embrace. “I still can’t believe Ian’s gone. And now, Aurum…”

Aphis nodded, before pulling away from him to pat his cheek. “Hopefully the trial will turn out okay.” She didn’t look sure enough to placate Ren, but he was grateful for her effort, all the same. “Come on. I’m getting you and Met cleaned up and fed before we get there.” She scrunched up her nose. “You stink.”

Ren laughed fondly, shaking his head. “I’ll go wake Met up, and we’ll get ourselves sorted out.”

Aphis nodded, settling down on the couch as Ren hurried back to the bedroom to see Met slowly sitting up.

“Was that Aphis?” He asked, and Ren nodded. He sighed, nodding slowly as Ren sat down next to him, bumping their shoulders together. “I’m glad she’s here.”

“Yeah.” Ren replied. “She’ll be with us when we go to the trial later.”

Met looked at him, expression set. “Aurum will be okay, Ren.” He said suddenly, squeezing Ren’s hand. “You know as well as I do she couldn’t have killed Ian.”

Ren smiled at him sadly, and he nodded. “I know.” He said. “I just… I’m sorry about Ian.”

Met shook his head fondly. “That’s all you’ve been saying these past three days.”

Ren felt his eyes prickle with tears, but Met patted his shoulder. “I’ll go take a bath first. Lie around for a bit and calm down a little.”

He nodded, sinking back into bed as Met headed outside to greet Aphis before heading to the bathroom. Left alone to himself, Ren looked at the doorway, and thought of Aurum, and how she was doing. He could feel the pang of pain, of sadness in his chest, a constant reminder of her pain as well, and how he was sharing in it.

Ren buried his face in his pillows, and let the hiss of water coming from the bathroom lull him to sleep.

* * *

The courthouse was right across the Garrison colony from the Fleet Headquarters, so Ren, Met and Aphis settled for public transport instead of piling all together on Met’s bike. One glance at Ren had the bailiff let them inside, pushing a path for them between the interstellar mediamen trying to get a word out of Ren. Once inside, they could hear the court proceedings already underway—they had arrived late. Met and Aphis were suddenly ushered away towards the courtroom, while another Fleet officer showed up to lead Ren to a separate room.

When the door swung open, Ren saw Commander Cadeyrn inside, seated on a plush armchair, his leg crossed over the other casually as he watched Ren enter the private room.

Nervously, Ren shut the door behind him slowly, and stood right in front of it.

“… Commander Cadeyrn.” He said, breaking the awkward silence between them, and the man smiled slowly at him, devoid of warmth and sincerity, and Ren felt his stomach turn in anxiety.

“Captain Ishigaki.” The man replied curtly, and beckoned him to come closer.

Every fibre of his being screamed at him not to, but Ren obeyed. He came to a stop in front of the man, who inspected him carefully, like he was a particularly interesting morsel of food on display. Ren had seen that look directed at him before—when other species took one look at him, and still considered humans as a delicacy to enjoy. His skin crawled, and he resisted the urge to run away.

“Today, Stella Aurum will be tried for the murder of Stella Caduca.” He said, after a long moment of silence, and Ren snapped out of his nervous stupor to glare at him. “And she will be found guilty.”

Ren’s blood froze in his veins. “Sir—”

“This is not a guess, Captain.” Cadeyrn cut him off, rising to meet his eye evenly. “She _will_ be found guilty. The jury will find the evidence pointing them in that direction, and she will be sentenced to execution.”

Ren’s world came to a terrible, screeching halt as Cadeyrn reached forward, oddly tenderly wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek unnoticed.

“This is a word of warning.” He said, “Stella Aurum will die tonight, unless you do something.”

“W-why are you telling me this?” Ren sniffed, jerking his head away from Cadeyrn as he stepped back. “Don’t tell me this is all your doing, Commander, you _know_ she’s innocent—”

“I suggest you work quickly,” Cadeyrn cut him off, sitting back down with a sigh. “The one who stole Stella Caduca’s life is as good as you are when you stole Stella Aurum’s.”

 _That_ shocked him back into reality, and Ren’s hand balled into a fist. “I didn’t _steal_ her, _sir._ ” He snarled, “She _chose_ me.”

“So you say,” Cadeyrn replied easily, crossing his leg over the other. “But an fresh pilot is an unqualified pilot, all the same.”

“Who is the Fleet to decide who is worthy to fly a Living Ship?” Ren dropped all pretence of respect in his rage. “Aurum _isn't_ guilty. She couldn't have killed anyone, much less Ian. He was like a brother to her.”

“You'd be surprised to see how low a murderer can go.” Cadeyrn replied smoothly. “They can act so deceivingly innocent, sweet and kind one moment and then the next…” he reached for the side table to take a shotglass of a dark-coloured liquor, and he downed it in one go. “ _A Dagger to the Back, Poison in the Blade_.” He said on his exhale of contentment. “Bit of a stretch, that title. Pasian to Basic isn't quite seamless, but the novel was good.” He tipped the empty shotglass at Ren, smirking. “It makes me wonder if life imitates art, and not the other way around.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed at him. “Maybe the Pasians are capable of that.” He said. “But not my Aurum.”

Cadeyrn shrugged carelessly. “I'm simply warning you, a man to his fellow man.” He gestured at the door. “The trial has already begun, already halfway through when you and your friends arrived. No doubt the jury will make their decision soon.”

Ren’s eyes widened, and he simply bolted out of the room. Cadeyrn laughed to himself, pouring himself another shot.

“And not even a goodbye.” He shook his head, and downed his drink.


	11. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another star is sentenced to perish, but things would not end this way.
> 
> Not yet.

Ren hurried into the courtroom to see Met and Aphis standing together at the railing behind the audience. Met spotted him entering, and waved him over, worry clear on his face. Ren hurried to his side, and he gasped softly when he looked down at the courtroom proper.

“Sure takes you back, doesn't it?” Met asked, but his tone was anything but wistful.

Aurum was in a glass chamber again, palms pressed to the glass and desperation and grief clear in her eyes. Ren could feel her fear, her apprehension digging into his own heart like knives, and he flinched as he gripped his chest.

“Aurum,” he breathed. “I want to help her. She’s so _scared_.”

His fear only grew as he realised the trial came to a close, the prosecution already giving their closing remarks.

It was like the first time they met, again. Aurum had been so scared, trapped in a stifling glass chamber, and Ren had been powerlessly watching from the railings of the stands far above her.

Ren bit his lip. Was Cadeyrn expecting him to do as he did before? Simply steal Aurum away?

“I know what you're thinking.” Met said suddenly, and Ren turned to look at him, eyes wide. “You can't, Ren. Aside from the fact that that's illegal, you wouldn't be able to free her from that chamber.” He sighed. “It won't open like the chamber back at the Choosing did. It's designed to _stay_ closed.”

Ren deflated. “What should we do?”

“We have to wait it out.” Aphis said, turning to look at them. “The jury’s going to debate now, so court will be in recess until they make their decision. What happened to you back there? Who wanted to see you?”

“Commander Cadeyrn.” Ren mumbled, and his friends gaped at him. Red flashed across Met’s eyes, and he curled his hand into a tight, angry fist.

“What the _hell_ did he want? How _dare_ he come see you, at a time like th—”

“ _Met_ ,” Aphis snapped, and he looked at her witheringly. “Jeez, usually I’d be the one losing my cool over this. Calm down.” She turned to Ren and squeezed his arm. “What did he say?”

Ren scowled. “He told me Aurum would be found guilty.”

Aphis’s expression darkened. “What a _dick_. What does _he_ know?”

“No, wait,” Met scowled, holding Aphis’s shoulder to hold her back. “He _might_ actually know something.”

“That’s the thing,” Ren shook his head, “The way he spoke to me—he _knows_ something.” He looked down at his hands, balled in loose, shaking fists. “The words he used to describe Ian’s murderer: ‘the one who took Ian’s life’. He _knows_ Aurum didn’t kill him, _but somehow she’s still going to be found guilty._ ”

Aphis and Met held his shoulders to reassure him.

“I wanna shank that asshole.” Aphis hissed viciously.

“Aphis.” Met immediately chided, but Ren could tell he was only barely holding back his own anger.

“He said Aurum was gonna die tonight if I didn’t do anything.”

Aphis’s eyes widened. “ _No goddamn way_.” She snarled.

“ _Aphis_.” Met pressed again, but he was suddenly ushered aside by the bailiff to replace his hold on Ren’s shoulder.

“Hey, the hell—” Aphis began, but Met hushed her, pulling her hand away from Ren. “Met,” she began, but he shook his head.

“Captain Ishigaki, you are needed on the court.” The bailiff said sternly, not even acknowledging Met and Aphis. “As per the request of the jury, and the defendant.”

Ren looked at his friends, and sighed. “It’s okay, guys. I’ll go.”

Met reluctantly nodded, and Aphis simply glared at the bailiff as they led Ren down to the court proper. They passed the leering, reluctantly silent crowd, but Ren held his head high—he needed to be strong, not just for himself, his friends—

But for Aurum, who was looking up at him pleadingly, just like all those months ago when they first met.

Back then, he promised her he would be there for her, and until now, until _after_ , he was going to make good on that promise.

He stood next to her chamber, and she pressed her hands against his side of the glass. He looked back at her worriedly, and she was saying something, but outside the chamber, Ren couldn’t hear her.

“I can’t hear you.” He mouthed at her slowly, gesturing at his ear, and then shaking his head, and she deflated, before leaning against the glass. He leant against the glass, too, trying his best to offer her comfort though he couldn't touch her.

“Court is now back in session.” The head juror, a balding Aurorean man with his hair already missing from most of his scalp, said flatly. “The Fleet Garrison jury has debated and have finally reached a sentence for Stella Aurum.”

Ren and Aurum held their breaths.

“She has been charged of the crime of murder, taking the life of a fellow Living Ship, Stella Caduca.” The juror continued, “To which we rule her guilty.”

Ren’s heart dropped in horror. Cadeyrn’s smirk flashed across his mind, and his blood ran cold in his veins.

“Concordant to this ruling, Stella Aurum’s pilot, Captain Ren Ishigaki, is henceforth no longer affiliated with the Fleet, and is discharged from military service.”

Ren’s world came to a screeching halt as his mind flashed back to the last time he saw his parent.

 _“I'll be a General someday, and I'll make you proud.”_ He had said.

And now… he was…

“Stella Aurum shall be executed tonight onboard the Executor as punishment of her crime.” He banged his gavel twice on its stand. “Court adjourned.”

Ren remained frozen in place, shocked into stillness as Aphis and Met were finally allowed to run up to him. Ren’s world narrowed on Aurum, and he felt a surge of short-lived relief well up inside him when the glass chamber finally collapsed. Aurum quickly squirmed out from the bailiffs trying to restrain her to run into Ren’s arms, and he knelt down to catch her, hugging her tightly as the both of them sunk to the floor.

He could feel her tears soaking through his uniform and onto his shoulder. He could feel her fear, her horror and shock and desperation clawing at him from the inside, and he knew she could feel his own despair, too.

The bailiffs approached them, all with the intent of pulling Aurum away from Ren, but Met and Aphis stood between them.

“Captains, step aside. We need to put Stella Aurum back into custody.”

“With all due _disrespect_ ,” Aphis snarled.

“A _little girl_ had just been sentenced to death.” Met continued, “She’s barely a year old. Grow a damn heart.”

Another Fleet officer made a move to approach Ren and Aurum, and Aphis blocked them off instead. “ _We’re warning you._ ” she hissed.

“Captains, desist.” Orent’s voice suddenly snapped, and the two of them turned to see the man standing up from the prosecutor’s bench, removing his glasses to hang from the collar of his uniform. “Stella Aurum and Captain Ishigaki may meet again before her execution.”

He approached Ren and Aurum clinging to each other on the floor, and held her shoulder.

“No—no!” She shrieked, clinging onto Ren harder, and Ren looked up at Orent pleadingly. “Ren!”

“G-General,” Ren gasped, but Orent reached between them to pry Aurum’s grip from Ren’s jacket. “General Orent, please, don't—”

“You're better than this.” Orent snarled. “Until the hour your badge is stripped from you, Captain Ishigaki, conduct yourself like a respectable Fleet officer.” He managed to pry Aurum from Ren’s arms, and he pushed her towards the waiting bailiffs. Ren made a move to follow, but Orent shoved him back into his spot on the ground.

“Perhaps it was prudent for you to be removed from the Fleet.” He smirked. “Sentimental, _weak_ human.” He turned and began to walk away.

Ren glowered at him, angrily wiping at his eyes with the back of his wrist, as he struggled to get on his feet.

“If it was you and Dove in this situation, _sir_ ,” he snarled, “I wouldn't expect you to shed any tears for her, you heartless bastard.”

Orent didn't make any acknowledgment of his words, and simply left the courtroom.

Ren shook with rage as he watched his retreating back, and Met rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Ren—”

“That's what he get for stealing the damn LS in the first place,” someone said from the group of onlookers at the back at the courtroom. “Dirty human.”

“What the _hell_ did you just say?” Aphis snarled.

“You heard what I said!” A Pterii woman shot back at her. “That human shouldn't have even been let into the Fleet Garrison!”

Met stepped between Ren and the crowd, but a manic, wide grin crossed Aphis’s face.

“Ren may not have a clean record anymore,” she said lowly, her hand balling into a fist. “But you know who still does?”

Met’s eyes widened. “Ren, let's go.” He said hastily, and he pulled Ren back.

“Met—”

Met took his hand, and tugged him along, as Aphis’s first punch flew.

* * *

Ren had been rather bodily dragged from Met’s apartment that evening, Met shoved roughly aside as he was pulled along the hangars until they came to one of the many communal military hangars in the Fleet Garrison spaceport.

While it wasn’t completely pristine like the Living Ship hangars, the carrier hangars of the spaceport were considerably newer than the others, and significantly larger than a single LS hangar. Ren’s eyes widened, his jaw falling slack as he took in the sight of the gigantic hangar, large enough to fit three carriers—though that Garrison evening, there was only one ship docked in the bay.

Her name was the Executor, the flagship of the Fleet Garrison, flew by none other than the Commander-In-Chief himself, Taxis Cadeyrn. Her body was a terrible, gaping obsidian black, the maw of the vast coldness of the universe, deep like a black hole. The longer he looked at it, the more Ren felt like it was dragging him into its pitch-black depths, stealing away his breath, draining his life drop by agonising drop.

He tore his eyes away from it, and the officers pulling him along by his arm didn’t care.

He hadn’t changed out of his uniform since that morning—not yet, but it felt odd to still be wearing it, now a disgraced man of the Fleet. No longer a Fleet officer, not officially, but not yet stripped of his regalia, his title.

The title he had fought tooth and nail for, through 7 years of blood, sweat and tears—gone.

The title he promised his parent, Rick, and his sibling, Hammington, taken from him, just like that.

He thought of the Underneath, Eptilia, as the rest of the galaxy called it, but to him it was home. The Duchess’s kingdom sprawling out underneath the Earth’s surface like a clingy fungus on tiles, all soot and dirt and grime and crime, but it was all Ren ever knew. He fell into the Underneath as a child, reared up by a dangerous rat hunter named Rick Kingston-Lewis alongside their adoptive child, Hammington. The Eptils were a strange bunch, perpetually trapped in 18th century London, despite being space-age. Lizard humanoid and hostile to many species in and out of their system, the Eptils were generally considered a criminal race, and while Ren was human, over time, he had considered himself as one of their own.

Yet the stigma still remained.

Weak, fragile human.

Ruthless, criminal Eptils.

Ren had wanted to change that.

He couldn't blame Aurum. He could _never_ blame Aurum. The _both_ of them were the victims here.

He was pushed into the Executor for the first time ever, and he was surprised at how… _empty_ it was.

Aurum was held in a glass chamber once again, in the middle of the huge, cavernous hall that was the Executor’s hull. She lit up when she saw him, and she rushed to the glass, beating her fists against it in desperation.

“Aurum,” Ren gasped, rushing towards her without much regard for the eerie lack of personnel in the area. Had he looked, he would have noticed that there were only a few people there—Cadeyrn, Orent, and some other generals. Maclaine was strangely absent, but Ren paid it no mind when Aurum’s glass chamber collapsed to let her rush towards Ren as well, the two of them jumping into each other’s arms in tight, desperate hugs. The Executor lurched frighteningly as she launched into space, and Ren looked up from Aurum’s tight hug to realise that the hull had become transparent, showing him the Fleet Garrison’s massive colony ship floating away from them the further the Executor drifted from it.

He gaped at the sight of wide, open space underneath them, and he felt Aurum cuddle closer to him.

“They’re going to kill you too.” She said quietly, and Ren’s blood went cold in horror. “I-I’m so, so sorry, Ren—th-this is all my fault.”

“A-Aurum, no, none of this is—”

“I heard them talking about it before I got put in the chamber.” She pulled away from him, tears in her eyes, and she forced herself to keep still at the sight of Orent approaching them, in his hand an ornate blaster that looked ready to fire. She trembled, and Ren cupped her face in his hands.

“Ren, I don’t want you to die.” She whimpered, squeezing his hand on top of her cheeks, and he nodded shakily.

“I-I don’t want you to die either,” He replied. “I’m so—Aurum,” he stopped himself, at a loss for words.

What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t _lie_ to her, _nothing_ was okay right now—

“There’s no way I’m ending things here.” Aurum squeezed her eyes shut, and Ren blinked at her.

“Aurum?”

“Ian said I could find him again, so I will.” She said, and she pulled him into a hug. “Ren, do you trust me?”

“With my life.” He answered easily, hugging her back awkwardly. “Aurum, what are you up to?”

“I’m going to set us free.” She replied, and he jolted. “Here goes everything.”

Ren nodded at her, and she wrenched her eyes shut, squeezing Ren tightly.

“Get ready.” She said, and suddenly, she disappeared from his arms, and Ren’s world plunged into darkness. He panicked, flailing helplessly as he scrambled to grip whatever he could in the darkness around him. His world soon stopped shaking for him to land in the cockpit of an Accipit PJ-613 fighter ship.

He gasped, and the ship suddenly lurched, the thunderous explosion of an ion cannon sending his world _flying_. He looked out of the windshield to realise the fighter had blasted a hole in the transparent bottom of the Executor’s hull. The ship he was in shook frighteningly once, twice—

Before it careened out into space, bringing him with it.

Ren screamed, as the ship turned and turned and turned, and he was glad vertigo was no longer an issue for years now.

He struggled to seat himself in the pilot’s seat, grabbing what levers and handholds he could to maneuver himself to sit down, until he managed to wrap his hands around the main joysticks, giving them a firm _yank_ up to stabilise the tumble of the fighter plane.

What Aurum did was reckless—she transformed _around_ him, something only one other Living Ship—Andrew—was capable of doing, dumping him into her cockpit as she fired her laser cannon at the hull to provide them an escape route from the Executor. He could hear laser fire behind them, and he wasted no time being stupefied at somehow managing to escape.

“Anywhere out of the Centrus system, Aurum!” He barked, as he dodged the attacks the Executor was throwing at them expertly. He flicked on the shields to keep them safe, and he lit up when he heard the ‘ _ding_ ’ of coordinates being accepted. “Jumping into Hyperspace!”

“ _Copy!_ ” Aurum agreed, and unfamiliar coordinates showed up on her navigation pane. Ren eyed it warily, but anywhere was a good place, so long as they were far, _far_ away from the Fleet Garrison. He hurriedly punched in the coordinates into the display, and slapped the switch for hyperspace, leaving the Executor, the Fleet Garrison, and their old lives behind.


	12. The Flyby Ladies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie logic can save you in the long run, but not in the way you'd normally expect.

Aurum had yet to learn how to fly herself. The rest of the older Living Ships were adamant on letting Aurum and Ian mature more with their pilots before they could learn how to fly by themselves. There were other dangerous skills they had yet to learn—self-repair mid-flight, dropping prematurely out of hyperspace, and, in the latest situation Aurum found herself in, transforming around their pilot in a do-or-die escape.

As Aurum and Ren dropped out of hyperspace jump, Ren sighed deeply, deflating against his seat in relief at having escaped the Executor, and the Fleet behind them.

“Now what?” He panted, his hands shaking as he held her controls. “We’ve got nowhere to go. The Fleet will be after us.”

“ _We look for Neverwhere._ ” Aurum replied, and Ren looked at her display, as if it was her face he was looking at.

“You’re _joking._ Aurum, Neverwhere is just an old wives’ tale. It doesn’t exist.”

“ _Yes, it_ does _. Ian and I_ know _it does. Andrew, and the other Living Ships, too. We can feel it, Ren. It’s there._ ”

Ren took a shaky breath. “And where is _there?_ ” He asked.

Aurum fell quiet for a moment, and he deflated. He could feel her apprehension in his chest, and he knew he said the wrong thing. “Aurum, I—” He tried apologising, but she suddenly spoke.

“ _I… don’t know_.” She replied sheepishly. “ _I don’t know where it is, but I know that it exists. It’s out there. Somewhere._ ”

Ren sighed fondly at her. Even until now, her faith in that place was unshaken—or perhaps, it was even stronger. Whatever happened to Ian, to her through that terrible time—it only made her stronger.

It made warmth swell in Ren’s chest, and he could feel the ship practically _sigh_ at the feeling.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ve got an idea. It’s the stupidest idea ever.”

“ _Then that just means it’s a good one._ ” Aurum replied, and Ren had to let himself laugh. Hearing Met’s words echoed back at him at a time like this made him miss his friends, the Garrison—his _home_ , for seven long years.

It made him wonder if he was doing the right thing—but then again, when had helping Aurum ever led him astray?

“We head to the Naal system.” He said, searching up its coordinates on Aurum’s navigation interface. “There’s a planet there—Ingal, houses the worst parts of the galaxy and the even uglier mercenaries and criminals there.” He swallowed nervously at the thought. “Only place we can go for information without alerting the Fleet. Sounds good?”

“ _Absolutely._ ” Aurum sounded relieved. “ _I’m ready whenever you are._ ”

He’d been ready, ever since the day he met her.

Ren smiled at her, and entered hyperspace once again, shooting them off towards the Naal System.

* * *

It wasn’t easy, the whole plan that Ren had suggested. Aurum was a Fleet-exclusive ship. He was still in his uniform, but the news of Aurum’s execution and his dismissal shouldn't have made it that far yet.

As Aurum and Ren made their approach to Ingal, they were received with little fanfare. He docked her into a private hangar, and when he got off, Aurum morphed back into her usual body. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, before they rushed towards each other and into a tight hug.

“Ren.” Aurum’s voice shook as she buried her face into the crook of her pilot’s neck. “Ren, we made it.”

“Y-yeah,” her tears flowed into his heart, and spilled from his eyes, holding her close to him desperately. “I’m so, so glad you’re okay.”

“Th-that's my line,” Aurum sniffled, “I-I was real—really worried about you. I've never tried transforming around you before, a-and the last time we tried th-that, Blanc said I-I could have gotten you killed.”

“But you didn't.” Ren kissed her forehead. “You're such a brilliant ship, Aurum.”

She deflated, and pulled away to smile up at him past her tears. “Thanks, Ren. For sticking with me.”

“I'm your pilot, and you're my ship.” He smiled at her kindly. “We're all in this together.”

She nodded, and they pulled apart to let Ren stand up properly. “So, um… where do we go?”

“We’ll stake out at a bar somewhere and wait.” Ren sighed, checking his wallet. “Hopefully I'll have enough credits to make it.” He winced, shoving his wallet back into his pocket before shucking his Fleet jacket off. He tied it around his waist, and offered her his hand.

She gave him a supportive smile, and took his hand, and together, they walked out of the hangar.

* * *

It wasn't like in the movies, Aurum realised.

Seated next to Ren in a new change of clothes she sheepishly admitted to stealing the night before, she shuffled around in her seat, poking at her cold meal as Ren practically glared around the bar.

They’d tried a less direct approach—like in the movies, Aurum had said, when the two of them settled down in their motel room on their first night there. They decided to stake out at the nearest bar to their hotel—a seedy little place called the Flyby Ladies—to wait for someone to come by with the information they needed.

It had been two days, and they still haven't had a lead. Ren was getting worried, pacing the dank little room they had rented out for the nights they spent there.

Now, as the business day in Ingal drew to a close, Aurum could see Ren’s patience growing thin for the day. He tapped his fingers absently on the table, in a rhythm she couldn't place, and she poked at her food again.

Sighing, she leant against his side, and she felt him relax, if only marginally.

Aurum took a look around the bar. It was slowly starting to fill up, the amount of patrons increasing with every passing minute, and she watched the people coming in.

An Apocrite woman with an eyepatch. She reminded Aurum of Aphis, and her heart twinged with pain, thinking about her. How were she and Met doing, she wondered. Were they doing alright in the Fleet Garrison?

A handsome, dark-skinned man with red hair followed after her, about a minute and a half after she entered. He was definitely attractive—tall, and ruggedly handsome, a roguish smirk on his lips, and built like a gorgeous statue or a celebrity, but the way he walked said he was dangerous, and other patrons of the bar subconsciously parted ways for him. He strode confidently through the bar, his long red velvet trenchcoat fluttering behind him, and made a beeline for a table in the back, passing by their table to let Aurum catch a whiff of an unfamiliar flower.

“Hm.”

Aurum heard Ren hum. He must have noticed the newcomer, too.

The redhead sat down, and the pretty barkeep went up to him, giggling as she played with her curling green hair. Another barkeep, a young man with an apron tied around his waist, approached him and they talked for a moment, before he left the girl and the redhead to their devices.

They chatted for a brief moment, and when they finished, the redhead planted a kiss to her exposed collarbone, and Ren flushed deeply, turning Aurum’s gaze away from them.

“What—Ren—”

“Inappropriate,” Ren stammered, tearing his eyes away from them. Aurum cocked her head at him, but settled for crowd-watching again.

She saw a gaggle of Ranaids heading across the bar, dead intent on approaching the redhead, and he simply watched impassively, while the barkeep—now seated on the arm of his chair with his arm around her waist—looked nervous.

“Captain Minos.” The largest one, a thick-skinned slimy man, said. His warts and creases mixed in with scars and scabs made him look daunting, and Aurum held her breath. “You didn't hold up your end of the bargain.”

The redhead—Minos—smirked, shrugging, and said nothing else. Aurum’s eyes widened slightly to see he was wearing a pair of beautiful ruby earrings, held by a glittering golden chain. She didn't quite expect to see them on an outlaw like him.

“Pasian slaves, Minos! A whole shipment of them, from Rosia!” The Ranaid slammed his fist on the table. “You promised me white-wings. Where the _hell_ are my white-wing slaves, you bastard!”

“Bufo!” The barkeep hissed, “Don't cause a scene!”

“Stay out of this, you dumb whore,” Bufo snarled, and the green-haired Nymphean gasped in shock.

“Hey, now, let's not fight.” Minos drawled, his hand crawling up the side of the girl’s waist sensually, and she melted right against him. “You're a lovely lady. Smart in your own way.” He kissed her neck, and she giggled softly. Bufo glowered at him, and he looked back at the Ranaid, smirking. “But Entis, darling, real men handle their own messes.” He said, his lips still pressed to the skin of her throat. “Go on. I'll have my usual and maybe we'll talk later after Bufo.”

“O-okay,” she stammered, and he let her hurry away.

Minos sighed deeply, and got up, rolling his sleeves up his toned arms before grinning down at the Ranaid slave traders.

“I set them free.” He said proudly. “I don't deal with slaves.”

Aurum’s eyes widened. How oddly… virtuous of him.

“You took my damn money!” Bufo shook his fist at Minos, who towered over him, unafraid. “You cheating bastard, you're even worse than—”

“Ah, come on now. We've talked about this.” Minos replied coolly, patting Bufo’s cheeks with his gloved hands, but they got mucus on them. His smile dropped to be replaced by a disgusted frown, and he wiped his hands on Bufo’s shirt ineffectively. “I. Don't. Deal. With. Slaves.” He said, punctuating his words with a wipe of his hand in Bufo’s clothes.

The slave trader glared at him.

“Then we don't trade with cheaters.” He snarled. “Boys, get him.”

“Hey, now,” Minos laughed, holding his hands up as Bufo’s people slowly approached him. “We're inside a respectable establishment, it wouldn't be cool for us to wreck it because of some _misunderstanding_.”

“Misunderstanding?” Bufo’s voice pitched into a high tone. “What part of this, _Captain Minos,_ is a misunderstanding?”

Minos’s friendly smile sharpened. “The part where you think you can make it out of here alive.”

Aurum’s eyes widened.

“R-Ren,” she began, but he shook his head, and pulled her down to sit close to him. “Ren, we have to _do something_.”

“No.” he said. “It's a regular occurrence in places like this, and that guy’s done for.” He downed his drink, and winced at the burn of cheap liquor down his throat. “I know dangerous when I see it.”

“The hell are you talking to?” An young Nymphean stopped at their table, and while Aurum scurried underneath her cover, Ren looked up at him to realise it was the young man the redhead had talked to earlier—the other barkeep. He had his short green hair tucked under a kerchief and one arm akimbo, while the other one was holding up a drink.

“This is for you.” He said, setting down a cocktail in front of Ren, blood red and decorated with red sugar around the rim. Floating on top of it was a teardrop shaped petal of a flower. The barkeep rooted around his apron’s pocket for something, and produced the flower the petal came from, a Pasian bloom sold for many a pretty coin. He handed it to Ren impassively, and the human blinked at it confusedly, and then at the barkeep.

“What’s this?”

“From the Exalted Pirate Minos.” The barkeep replied lazily. “He’s already super used to my sister Entis, but you seem to have caught his attention.” He gestured at the Fleet jacket Ren had draped over his shoulders in an attempt to look like a delinquent. “Must’ve been the jacket.” He shrugged. “Or your face. I dunno with this guy.”

“Huh.” Ren looked down at the drink. “Is this roofied?”

“Who the hell do you think we are?” The barkeep snapped, and Ren reeled back in alarm.

“S-sorry! I-I was just—”

The barkeep lost his angry expression and burst out laughing. “Nah. I know what you mean. Can’t be too careful in places like these.” He said, and gestured at the drink. “But no, this isn’t drugged. You have my word on it.”

Ren inspected the drink carefully.

The word of a barkeep on a criminal planet. Right.

Still, he took a sip, and his eyes widened. “Huh. It’s kinda… sweet.” He said, and the barkeep grinned.

“That’s one of our specialties. It’s called the Queen Commander.” He gestured at Minos, still struggling with the Ranaids. “He made it himself, actually.”

“Huh.” Ren hummed, slowly finishing off the rest of the drink. Beside him, Aurum squirmed in impatient curiosity, and finally peeked out from her hiding spot to look at the barkeep.

“Um, excuse me,” she stammered, and the barkeep jumped at the sight of her. “Who exactly is—”

“Hey, why the _hell_ do you have a little kid with you?” The young man cut her off in favour of hissing at Ren, aghast, but the loud sound of a body crashing into a booth seat caught his attention quickly. “Oh, fu— _Minos!_ ”

The barkeep hurried away from Ren and Aurum to hurry over to the redhead man. The two he left behind watched, slack-jawed, as Minos expertly dodged the incoming two goons smoothly, deflecting their clumsy totter towards him to the side and spinning to slam their heads together. The next pair had blasters, and Aurum was surprised to see them use them as anything but what they were, charging towards Minos, who only laughed at them. He wrenched the blaster away of one of them, and slammed it into his temple on the way past, before turning around to shoot the other man in the leg, gut and then shoulder.

“Minos!” The barkeep had opted to stand at the edge of the makeshift fighting ring, but Minos ignored him in favour of whirling around from the groaning pile of men to point a gun at Bufo’s face.

“Well?” His smile was icy, cocky and triumphant.

The Ranaid man shook. “Y-you… Minos…”

“They'll be okay, mostly.” He said airily. “They _were_ the ones who helped me set your shipment free.”

“They wha—”

Minos suddenly shot Bufo square in the chest, without letting him finish his sentence. The Ranaid dropped like a stone, dead, and he whistled amicably, twirling the blaster in his hand before slipping it inside an empty holster on his belt.

“Thanks for the new gun,” he said cheerfully, and he finally looked at Ren, Aurum and the distressed-looking barkeep. “Oh, Entil, sorry about the mess.” He winked charmingly, and Ren saw the barkeep blush. “These things do happen.”

“ _These things do happen_ ,” Entil snapped, stomping his way to Minos, “But do you stop them from happening? No!”

Minos laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, and it was hard for Aurum to believe that this man had just murdered someone in cold blood. “Sorry, sorry.” He said kindly, tilting Entil’s chin up to look at his face. “I've made an improvement—just one guy dead this time.”

“Still a dead guy,” Entil sighed. “My dad’s gonna _freak_ about this.”

“He freaks out about _everything_ , gorgeous.” Minos laughed. “Come on. I didn’t break anything this time, I swear.” He said, wiping off a drop of blood on the booth seat he had slammed one of the goons into earlier. Entil rolled his eyes, and the redhead winked at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of the young man’s lips. Ren squeaked in alarm, covering Aurum’s eyes, making her squirm in protest.

The noise he made caught the redhead’s attention, and Ren couldn’t help his cheeks growing hot when the man slowly smirked at him.

Oh, what had he gotten himself into?

“Hey, Entil.” He said, not taking his eyes off Ren for a second. “Clean up, because you love me?”

Entil scoffed, but he was still blushing. “Clean up because you bring good business and good liquor.” He deadpanned, pushing Minos back, and the redhead laughed again.

“Thanks, beautiful.”

Entil gave him a forceful shove, and Minos easily stepped away to let him deal with the mess he made. He looked back at Ren, grinning, and made a beeline for his and Aurum’s table. Before Ren had a chance to panic, he already arrived, easily standing right up to Ren’s side before he curled his hand under his chin to tilt his face up.

“Hey there.” He winked, and Ren shivered. “What’s a beautiful little thing like you doing in a place like this?” He spied Ren’s Fleet jacket, and grinned wider. “Captain. Maybe you wanna come over to my ship and show me how _you_ fly, huh?”

Oh, he couldn’t take this. “Please let go of me.” He stammered, and Minos laughed. Much to Ren’s surprise, the pirate let him go and stepped back.

“Alright. Sorry about that.” He said, sliding instead into the seat across Ren, still smiling as he laced his fingers under his chin. “Many folks ‘round these parts prefer physical attention, you know? So, what _are_ you interested in? I mean, you're at one of the nastiest cities in Ingal. You're beautiful. I can tell you've never been to a place like this before.”

Ren finally calmed down enough to grin at him wryly.

“I’d hate to disappoint you, Captain, but I actually do come from a criminal planet.”

Beside him, under her covers, Aurum looked up at him in alarm. They hadn’t talked about each other’s pasts yet—this was completely new.

Ren, from a criminal planet? She couldn’t wrap her head around it.

Still unaware of Aurum, Minos whistled. “Dangerous. You’re meeting all my standards.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “And you’re so impressive yourself?”

The redhead shrugged. “I’ve been places. I can show you the galaxy, baby.” He winked. “Anywhere you wanna go. Even Neverwhere.”

Aurum jolted, and she squeezed Ren’s side in alarm. Ren gaped at the man.

“Even… Neverwhere?” he echoed.

“Yeah.” Minos nodded, sliding his hand into Ren’s with a smooth, sensual grace. “So, how ‘bout it? You, me, my ship, and the stars.” His voice dropped into a low, husky tone, and Ren couldn’t help but shiver. “We can make love among the nebulae.”

“I-I, uh…” Ren stammered, flushing, and Aurum shook her head exasperatedly. She threw the blanket she was using to hide next to Ren and sat up, and almost immediately Minos’s seductive expression fell into one of shock.

He never expected the little girl next to him, did he?

“You’ve been to Neverwhere?” She asked, and the pirate could only gape at her. “Please!”

“I-I have.” He replied dazedly, before shaking his head. He pointed at her incredulously, and turned to Ren. “You have a _daughter?_ ”

“Can you take us there?” Aurum pressed, and Minos looked back at her.

“O-of course.” he replied, still shaken, and that was all she needed to hear.

“Good, then—”

She was cut off by the bar’s door suddenly slamming open, and a Fleet officer stepped inside.

“This is the Fleet!” He barked, “Yield now, or face arrest!”


	13. True Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ornithos, the king of pirates. 
> 
> Ricki, the golden star.

The shock was enough to snap Ren out of his embarrassed stupor.

“C’mon!” He grabbed Aurum’s wrist, getting up hurriedly from his seat.

“Hey, wait!” Minos called after him, but Aurum grabbed his wrist and tugged him along, making him run after them as Ren weaved his way through the bar and to the backdoor.

Minos grinned widely as Ren practically kicked the door open. “How did you know this spot, gorgeous?” He shouted over the din the chaos in the bar made. The three of them spilled out into the alleyways of Ingal City.

“Been staking out here for two days to find someone like you,” Ren replied dismissively, and Minos lit up, stepping past Aurum to wrap his arm around the human’s waist.

“Really, now?” He purred, and Aurum shot him an annoyed look.

“We’re in a hurry here.” She said.

“If I knew such a beautiful babe was waiting for me to just show up, I should have booked it from Gastros to here.” He grinned, and Ren elbowed him in his gut. He barely reacted, instead opting to pull away from the human with a laugh.

Aurum huffed in annoyance, and tugged on Ren’s wrist. He nodded, and he jerked his head at Minos to follow them, running along the alleyways and towards the fire escape of a decrepit building.

“Fifth floor.” He barked at Minos, “Get climbing.”

“I love the sound of your voice when you order me around.”

“We have a _child_ with us,” Ren snapped, and Aurum looked at him pityingly. He shook his head exasperatedly, and knelt down. “C’mon, on my back. It’ll be faster if just Minos and I do the climbing.”

The pirate gave them a grin, and began to climb. Aurum got onto Ren’s back, and the human followed suit.

* * *

They made it into their rented room in a few minutes, slipping inside through an open window. Minos stumbled inside and headed towards the door, as Ren let Aurum back down onto the ground.

“Hey, thanks.” Minos panted, leaning against the wall with a huff as Ren straightened himself out. “You two were pretty good out there.” He watched as Ren pulled out a vibroblade from one the drawers of the room. “Must have had lots of experience with Fleet mooks, huh?”

“Do _not_ call them mooks.” Ren snarled, and the vibroblade thrummed to life in his hands. “They’ve had more training than you could ever bargain for.”

Much to his dismay, somehow the display of force only made Minos’s grin widen. Aurum sighed, and squeezed Ren’s wrist reassuringly.

“Ren, please.” She said quietly, and her pilot stood down, still glowering at Minos as he turned the vibroblade off again. She looked at the redhead, and strode forward confidently towards him. “You said you’ve been to Neverwhere.”

“Well,” Minos laughed. “I didn’t know I jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. That why the two of you saved me?”

“Yes.” Aurum nodded, just as Ren said, “Kidnapped, more like.”

The redhead shook his head fondly, and ruffled Aurum’s hair. “I like your attitude. What’s your name, kid?”

Aurum paused, and Ren spoke up.

“Her name is—”

“Ricki.” She declared, more to affirm to herself than to the pirate. “My name… is Ricki.”

Ren blinked at her in alarm, and she looked back at him with a sheepish smile. His expression softened at her, and he stood back.

“Ricki, huh. Cute name.” The redhead nodded. “As for me, call me Ornithos.” The man gave them a wink, and then a mock salute. “But you’d know me better as the Exalted Pirate Minos.”

Ren and Ricki paused. They had been hearing his name from the bar before, but honestly, at the time, it hadn’t rung any bells—it still didn’t, and at their silence, Ornithos deflated.

“You know, Minos?” He pressed, “Wanted across twelve systems? Made the lightspeed jump over seven parsecs right before hitting the Kasyor Belt?” He rambled, but all he got were blank stares. “ _Nothing?_ ”

Ornithos sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Wh… what about Ornithos?”

The two still shook their heads, and he finally gave up.

“Man, and I _thought_ I was popular.” He muttered, shaking his head. “So, you must be Ren.” He gestured at Ren, who jumped, but nodded. “Heard it from little Rickster here.”

“U-um, yes. Ren Ishigaki.”

Ornithos eyed him appraisingly, and his cheeks darkened in embarrassment. “Ishigaki, huh? So you must be the Fleet pilot that condemned Living Ship kidnapped.”

“Kid…” Ren’s eyes widened, and Ricki hid behind him nervously. “ _Kidnapped_?”

“The news said you'd been kidnapped by that Stella Aurum, convicted murderer?” Ornithos asked, striding forward to lean closer to Ren. “But now you're here, in Ingal City, looking for handsome little me with a little girl and looking for Neverwhere.” He brushed his knuckles over Ren’s cheek, humming. “You’re _really_ meeting all my standards, beautiful. Dangerous, mysterious.” He chuckled lowly. “Ravishing.”

“I—uh,” Ren stammered, bright red and flustered.

“You _have_ to tell me how you escaped her. Where she is now.” Ornithos continued, moving Ren back until his back hit the wall, and Ricki decided to move in. She sandwiched herself between Ornithos’s advances and the redhead blinked down at her, confused as he shuffled back away from them.

“Um. Captain Ornithos, sir.” She said. “Please don't turn Ren in.”

He paused, and she looked up at him determinedly. “We really, _really_ need to find Neverwhere.” She pressed.

She did her best to look right back at him. Of _course_ there was that bothering little feeling in her chest—that little nugget of fear she held if she had angered him some way, but she couldn’t back down now.

She had to be brave—that was all she could do, right now.

Much to her surprise, Ornithos simply laughed and patted her head.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” He said. “No self-respecting pirate surrenders his crew.”

Ren cocked his head at him. “Crew? What crew?”

“Well, you two wanted to find Neverwhere too, right? I'm gonna need a crew to get you there.” Ornithos shrugged. “My ship is in the east quadrant port bay. It can take two more people flying in it.”

“We _have_ a ship,” Ricki began, but Ren held her back.

“No, Ricki. We _had_ a ship. We sold it to get a room and that stakeout.” He said pointedly, “We'll go with your ship, Captain Ornithos.”

Ornithos grinned toothily. “Just Ornithos is okay, beautiful, but nice you see it my way.” He nodded. “Now, I don’t suppose you could let me use the bathroom for a sec? I _really_ need that break.”

Ren rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

Ornithos chuckled softly. “Thanks, beautiful.”

He winked at them, and hurried away to the bathroom, the door shutting behind him with a click. Left alone together, Ren turned to look at Ricki, a gentle, proud smile on his face.

“You chose your name.” He said softly, and she smiled up at him shyly.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” She said. “Ian and I thought it up. I had planned on telling you and Met after his Choosing ceremony, but…” She trailed off there, deflating, and Ren came up to her to pull her into a warm hug. She hugged him back with a sigh, and she could feel their grief in their hearts—hers and Ren’s, mixing together with the fatigue and relief at where they were right now.

“Did you know he wanted to choose Met?” she asked, after a moment of silence, and Ren laughed sadly.

“Yeah, I figured…” He replied, pulling away from her. She watched him cross his arms as he leant against the wall, looking sullenly outside at the never-sleeping skyline of Ingal City. “Met liked him a lot, you know. Wished he could be his LS, if he would let him.”

Ricki’s hands balled into fists.

“Ren, I owe you an explanation why I want to go to Neverwhere.”

“You want to bring Ian back.” He said, and she gaped at him.

“How did…?”

“The version about Neverwhere that I heard when I was a kid was that it could grant you anything you wanted.” His expression tightened. “Eternal life, ultimate power, even bring the dead back to life.”

“... I didn't know that.” Ricki mumbled. “All that I knew was that was where all Living Ships came from. I figured… if that's where we come from, then that's where we all go back to, right?”

Ren peered at her, before eventually smiling softly. “Yeah, makes sense.” He agreed after a long moment. “I guess we'll just find out when we get there.”

She smiled in relief, and she hurried up to him to hug him again.

“Thanks, Ren.” She said weakly. “I hope Ornithos will get us through this.”

Ren frowned. “I don't know, Ricki. I don't particularly trust him.”

Ricki pouted. “You seemed perfectly fine with him up all in your face earlier.”

“This and that are two different things.” Ren blushed. “Yes, he's attractive, but can he really get us to Neverwhere? He wanted me to tell him where you were. I think he wants to steal you.”

“I know you won't let him.” Ricki said quietly. “But he's the only lead we have right now. We have to trust him.”

Ren sighed, but he nodded. Suddenly, Ornithos emerged from the bathroom, frowning at a device he had in his hand.

“Hey, uh. I'm pretty sure you're not with the Fleet anymore, so those guys outside aren't gonna be friendlies, are they?” He said, looking up from the screen to raise an eyebrow at them, and Ren realised it was telling him the situation outside.

“What were you—” he began, but Ornithos waved him off.

“We better get out of here.” He said sternly, and both Ricki and Ren were taken aback at how sudden his change in personality was. “C’mon. Grab what you need and let’s get to my ship.”

“R-right.” Ren nodded, and hurried to grab what else they had left in the cabinet—two stolen wallets, and a blaster from a mugger who tried attacking Ricki in the alleyway behind the inn they were staying at. Ricki picked up her old change of clothes, dumping them in a satchel—again, stolen—and pulled it on.

Ornithos was half out the window, carefully looking outside to look for an escape route.

“Captain Ornithos,” Ren began, and the redhead nodded.

“This way,” he said, beckoning at the two of them. “We’re going on the rooftops. It’s faster, but it’ll be easier for us to get seen. Unfortunately, we’re pretty far away from the east quadrant port bay and we don’t have much time left.” He checked his wristwatch, and nodded “We’ll worry about getting seen when we get there.”

Ren nodded, and he turned to look at Ricki. “C’mon.” He said, kneeling down, and she quickly climbed onto his back. After securing his grip on her, he hurried out after Ornithos, crossing the tiny gap between the fire exit and the roof across them.

From there, Ornithos led Ren across shingles and slipping tiles, but he managed to keep up. Ricki watched on in awe as Ren expertly darted across spaces and jumped over tiles that didn’t seem unstable—until it fell off on its own, and she wondered how he would have known that.

She shook her head. She had to trust Ren.

He trusted her, after all. Right now, all they had were each other.

She turned her head, and her eyes widened when she saw two small aircrafts following after them in the distance.

“R-Ren!” She gasped, “They’ve got pursuit pods!”

Ren and Ornithos looked over their shoulders to see the pods, and the redhead clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“ _Torlak_ ,” he swore, pulling out his blaster to fire at them while he yanked Ren behind a chimney. “How in the _hell_ did they find us so damn quickly?”

“How should I know?” Ren panted, and Ricki looked at him worriedly. “Haven’t you got anything bright up your sleeves there, Captain Ornithos?”

Ornithos grinned at him witheringly. “Well, darling, I—” he paused, his eyes widening, and Ren cocked his head at him.

“You what?” He snapped.

“That's it!” Ornithos grabbed Ren’s face. “It's you, beautiful!”

“ _Let go of me._ ” Ren hissed, but then Ornithos’s hands went to his ears, and he _froze._ The soldier cuff on his left ear. That was right—he still hadn't been stripped of his title when he and Ricki escaped the Executor, so there hadn't been time for the Fleet to get rid of it.

“It's this earring.” Ornithos frowned. “Hold still. I'm not going to hurt you.”

Ren took a sharp breath, and Ornithos crushed the cuff on his ear. Small sparks shocked his skin, but he ignored it.

“You alright?” Ricki asked.

“I'm fine,” he bit out, wincing. “Captain, throw that cuff away.”

“I said already, just Ornithos will do.” Ornithos replied, dropping it on the roof beneath their feet. “Now, come. Down off the roofs before the pods see us.”

Ornithos led them to a fire escape, and Ren followed after him. The two of them made it to the ground in record time, and Ren was relieved to see the familiar road to the ports. He let Ricki down onto the ground, and he held her hand as they began to walk after Ornithos.

“So, here’s the east quadrant port bay.” Ornithos grinned at them, “Follow me, I’ll show you two to my ship.”

Ren and Ricki followed after him through the twist and turns of the communal bay, and much to their surprise, the barkeep from the bar—Entil, stood next to a familiar-looking ship. The Nymphean was looking out at the crowd with a sour expression on his face, and Ren could see why he was like that.

Ornithos gestured grandly at the ship, the shiniest, least dented ship in the bay. It was a dark aquamarine and black, and had a close resemblance to a Fleet fighter model. Ricki lit up in recognition as Entil turned to give Ornithos a mock salute.

“That’s an Accipit FP-106.” She breathed, and Entil looked down at her.

“Huh. The kid knows her ship models.” He commented, and Ornithos beamed at them.

“This here’s the signature Minos ship. Fastest in the Fleet—”

“Until Stella Fulgore came along,” Entil drawled, and his sister finally approached them, smiling sweetly. “Ah, Entis.”

“Hi.” She waved at them, and handed Ornithos a receipt. “Nice to meet the two of you—Entil and I have been noticing Mister Fleet Officer here for a while now, but we really didn’t know what you guys were up to.” She looked down at Ricki, and giggled. “And aren’t you adorable?”

Ricki smiled up at her shyly, and she patted the little girl’s head. “So, you Ornithos’s new boyfriend or something?”

“N-no, not at all!” Ren stammered, turning bright red, and Entil and Ornithos began snickering.

“We’re getting there.” Ornithos nodded at the twins, patting Entil’s shoulder warmly. “Anyway, my ship works just as well.” He looked back at Ricki and Ren. “I call her Celyste.”

“Pasian.” Ricki nodded, and Ornithos raised an eyebrow at her. She flushed, and lowered her head. “Um… it means moon. In Pasian.”

“Huh. Does it?” Entis looked at her brother, who shrugged.

“You know, you really _are_ something, aren’t you?” Ornithos said warmly, ruffling Ricki’s hair, and the girl giggled bashfully. “Where did you pick up this brilliant little kid, beautiful?”

“I have a _name_ , you know.” Ren replied tartly, and Entis giggled.

“Don’t worry, he knows.” She said, and he cocked his head at her. “He never forgets a lover.”

“Aw, darling.” Ornithos winked at her, and she blew a raspberry at him. “Anyway. Thanks for getting the parking fee paid, you two. I’ll drop the amount in the Flyby Ladies’ account.”

“Thanks a bunch.” Entis nodded. “Entil, the engine’s running okay?”

“Yeah, did some diagnostics the moment Ornithos rang in.” He nodded.

Ren blinked at them. So _that_ was what the device was for.

“By the way,” the young man continued, “ _You’re_ paying for the mess the Fleet made of the bar earlier.” He grinned, crossing his arms. “You and your new crew stirred up quite the trouble, y’know?”

Ricki and Ren deflated.

“Uh,” Ricki said meekly, “W-we’re sorry.”

Entil laughed, and the Living Ship jumped.

“Nah, not you.” he said, before jerking a thumb at Ornithos. “Him.”

“Rude.” Ornithos replied, but he was grinning. “I’ll contact you two soon, okay? We’d better get going.”

“Right.” The twins nodded, and Entis gave Ricki another friendly wave.

“Bye, guys!” she said cheerfully, “Take care!”

Ren and Ricki waved back at them, and Ornithos looked on with a fond expression on his face. He shook his head, warm with affection, and turned to open the entrance hatch, letting the ship set down the entrance ramp with a hiss. Ricki and Ren turned to look at him, and he stood aside of the ramp, grinning widely.

“After you.” He said, and Ren and Ricki looked at each other, squeezing each other’s hands.

“Let’s go.” Ren said, and the two of them strode in.


	14. Xandria, the Interstellar Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day trip to the library. What could possibly go wrong?

Xandria was a planet-sized library in the habitable zone of the Nilean system. Its locals were an all-female race, blonde, wine-red eyes, and—

“Hot, like, hourglasses. Muscular. White blouses. Pencil skirts.” Ornithos whistled. “I got with a Xandrian woman once, and she bench pressed me like it was no one’s business.”

Ren eyed him witheringly from where he sat in the pilot’s seat. “And this is relevant because?”

“Not interested?” Ornithos raised an eyebrow at him, grinning. Ricki stood between them in the gap between the seats, holding on to their armrests.

“Ren’s never had a lover.” She said, and Ren shot her a withering look. “What?”

“Oh, a relationship virgin?” Ornithos chuckled. “So that's why you reacted so cutely when I chatted you up.”

“Among other things,” Ren mumbled. Ricki giggled. “Okay, moving on from my dating history, Ornithos, what is up with Xandria?”

“Okay, so I need to find an astrochart there.” Ornithos said, “And we're going to steal it.”

Ren’s eyes widened. “Stealing information from Xandria is illegal.”

“You're talking to the Exalted Pirate Minos.” Ornithos smirked. “When did you ever think anything I do will be strictly legal?”

“What do we have to do?” Ricki looked excited, and Ren withered.

“ _Ricki_ ,” he sighed, long-suffering. “Man. Those two days on Ingal didn't do you any good.”

“C’mon.” She grinned at him. “It'll be like those stories Met used to tell me and Ian.”

Ren looked at her worriedly, and her smile dimmed in lustre. Ornithos cocked his head at them.

“You guys okay?” He asked.

“Y-yeah.” Ren replied, reaching out at Ricki, only to be beat to her by Ornithos. He thumbed at the tear rolling down her cheek and he patted her head.

“It's okay, kid. Don't cry.” He said surprisingly gently, and Ren blinked at him. Ornithos peered at him, and smiled slightly. “You gonna cry too, Ren?”

“No…” Ren trailed off. “Uh… okay. Ornithos, how are we going to steal that astrochart?”

“Well, have you ever heard of this beautiful little gadget called a holomask?”

* * *

“This is a stupid idea.”

“Chin up, darling, we’re putting up a show.”

Ornithos walked ahead of Ren and Ricki, steps a confident swagger and looking completely different in a more nondescript jacket, sewn-up and covered with patches, and the style reminded Ren of cotton farmers from Bulac. His red hair still remained the same, but his face was different—he had stubble, and smaller eyes of dark blue, and a white line ran down his left eye. His lip had a scar, too, and wrinkles were along the corners of his lips, and yet _somehow_ , he still looked handsome.

Ren wasn't sure what face Ornithos gave him for his holomask, but Ricki was now a blue-eyed, pink-skinned little girl, and he couldn't help but smile at her. He pulled her closer to himself to adjust her hair—one of her pigtails was drooping—and he didn't miss the way Ornithos watched them, an unreadable smile on his face.

Ren half-hoped that was spite, if only to get the unsettling realisation that Ornithos was a _good_ man out of his head.

Xandria’s port bays all led into the general main reception area, which looked like a proper spaceport, with aisles of desks processing papers, a huge screen in the middle that changed from departure times from shuttle ship services to the general map of the area, and in-house shuttling service departure and arrival times.

Jaws hanging slack, Ren and Ricki let Ornithos lead them through the terminal.

“Welcome to Xandria.” He said, his voice different now thanks to the holomask. It was rougher, tinged with the husk of a Bulac cotton farmer, and Ren wondered if the man he impersonated was someone he knew. “First time coming here?”

The two of them nodded slowly, and Ornithos carefully took Ricki’s hand.

“Neat.” He chuckled. “You’ll love the inside, then.” He led them towards one of the many reception desks, and he smiled at the woman sitting behind the desk. “Hey, uh. We’re here to simply browse?”

The Xandrian woman looked similar to the rest of her species, tall blonde women with lean muscle in white blouses and black pencil skirt. The young woman they approached—her nameplate read Tharya—gave them a friendly smile, and nodded. “Very well. Let me just get your visitor ID’s sorted out.”

She tucked a few locks of her golden hair behind a pointed ear, and got to work on tapping at the keyboard of her terminal. Ren watched her with awe—despite the fact she seemed to be used to a desk job, her physique told him the Xandrians were a race of people always primed for combat.

Tharya was very pretty, too—her hair was up in a simple half ponytail, and when Ren looked down at Ricki, he realised she had stars in her eyes. Their eyes met, and she gave him a small smile.

“She’s very pretty.” She said quietly, though it seemed Tharya had heard it, laughing sheepishly as she hid behind her hair again.

“A-ahem.” She cleared her throat mildly. “Please have a representative take his photograph and log in.”

Ornithos gave the two a wink, and volunteered. He stood in front of the camera atop Tharya’s monitor, and when she nodded, he came up to the counter to quickly type in some details.

“Alright.” Tharya nodded, reading his information off her screen. “Mister… Khal?”

Ornithos beamed at her.

“Plus one.” She looked at Ren, who nodded stiffly, “And free entrance.” She smiled sweetly down at Ricki, who beamed back up at her. Tharya giggled at that, giving Ricki a small wave, before handing Ornithos three ID cards. “That will be two thousand galactic credits.”

Ren’s eyes widened. He had never been to Xandria himself, but with a lot of Fleet officers there on a regular basis, he had always thought it was easy to gain access to the galactic library. He hadn’t realised entrance would be _that_ expensive.

“I-I didn’t—” He began, but Ornithos slipped his hand into Ren’s and shook his head.

“Relax, honey.” He said soothingly, “I already told you—I’ve saved up for Thalia’s big day. I wanna treat you too.”

Ren gaped at him, his cheeks turning warm, as Tharya giggled softly. Satisfied, Ornithos let him go to pay their entrance fee, while Ricki looked up at Ren worriedly. He shook his head, and they watched as Ornithos and Tharya finished up.

“Your librarian for today is Shalla.” Tharya said pleasantly, gesturing at a series of wide double doors beyond them. “She’ll meet you at Entrance 17.”

“Thank you mighty.” Ornithos winked at her, giving her a mock salute, and Ren could swear he saw pink dust Tharya’s cheeks. “C’mon, babe. This way.”

He followed after Ornithos, letting Ricki hold onto the pirate’s hand as he trailed behind them. Ornithos gave out the three ID cards, and Ren pinned his on in time for them to meet up with another Xandrian woman at a door marked with a golden 17.

“Hello,” she greeted pleasantly. “My name is Shalla, I'll be your librarian today.”

Ornithos grinned at her. “Heya.” He gave her a mock salute. “The name’s Khal.”

“Father, c’mon, let’s hurry!” Ricki suddenly said, tugging on his hand. “I wanna see the other places!”

Ren forced a light laugh, not too thrilled at how well Ricki was taking to the whole disguise plan Ornithos had laid out, but he said nothing else. Ornithos smiled down at her patiently. “Thalia, darling, what did I tell you? Patience, patience.” He pinched her cheek lightly, and the librarian giggled. “I'm so terribly sorry, miss. My daughter absolutely _loves_ reading, and it's rare we get a chance to go to Xandria.”

Ren resisted the urge to roll his eyes, so he settled for keeping a careful eye out at anyone who might recognise them, as Shalla led them through the doors and into the massive library. His jaw fell at the sight of rows upon rows of bookshelves of datapad books, and his eyes welled up with tears at the awesome sight.

Met would like it here, he thought, and he deflated.

He missed Met. He wondered if he was alright.

He jumped when he felt a hand slide into his, and he looked down to see Ricki smiling up at him. Her other hand was still in Ornithos’s, but Ren didn’t mind. He smiled back at her, and he patted her head.

“Oh, of course.” Shalla flushed, unmindful of Ren and Ricki’s silent exchange. “I-if I may, sir. May I… may I take you three to the children’s section?” Ornithos raised an eyebrow at her, and she floundered some more. “Y-you see, your daughter is so very charming. I'd like to get to know her… and _you_ , sir, better.”

Ornithos turned to look at Ren, who shrugged. “Sounds alright.” He nodded.

“Well,” Ornithos flashed her a handsome smile, earning him an iron-tight squeeze of his hand from Ricki. He ignored it. “My little girl is actually a lot more advanced than that. May we get to the astrocharts, please? She wants to be in the Fleet when she grows up.”

“Oh, that's wonderful!” Shalla nodded, clapping her hands. “Thalia, you're a very bright girl.”

Ricki gave her a huge smile, and Shalla gestured westward as they arrived at a crossroad. “This way, please.”

Ren, Ornithos and Ricki followed after her, and Shalla fell into step next to Ornithos. Ricki let go of Ornithos at Ren’s tug of her hand, and the two of them walked behind them so he could hide his eyeroll.

“So, um… Sir, how old is Thalia?”

“She's turning eleven next week!” Ornithos replied smoothly. “We're all quite excited. I saved up a bit to get her here for her big one-one.”

“Oh, that's lovely!” Shalla smiled. “What about her mother?”

“She doesn't have one.” Ornithos replied, and he could see the way admiration welled in the Xandrian woman’s eyes. “Adopted her at three.”

“That's so sad!” She gasped. “How very noble of you to take her in.”

“What can I say?” Ornithos and Shalla looked back to watch as Ren ruffled Ricki’s hair, and she giggled lightly. Shalla’s expression softened and Ornithos’s eyes were fond. “I love kids. I'd take more in if I could.”

“That's amazing.” Shalla jumped, and she looked back at Ornithos again, stars in her eyes. “U-um, are you free sometime after this? Maybe we can grab a drink and talk more about Thalia.”

“Sounds nice.”

Ren took a wide step forward to catch his foot on the heel of Ornithos’s boot, but he barely reacted.

“But, um. If this is a date, then I'm sorry to tell you that I'm already married.”

Shalla’s expression fell. “I-I see no ring.”

He gestured at Ren, and then winked at her. “We eloped.”

Ricki could slap her forehead, if she could, but she was too busy with holding her laughter in at the look on Ren’s face. Shalla turned deep red.

“O-oh, I’m sorry, you were travelling with a human, so I had assumed…” She stammered, before bowing at Ren, “I’m so, so sorry for the misunderstanding.” She apologised profusely. “Please forgive me, sir.”

“Aloi,” Ornithos winked at Ren, who gawked at him. “It’s no big deal, right?”

“N-not at all.” Ren smiled at Shalla weakly, who looked at him tearfully. “It’s okay, Shalla.” He didn’t even know what Shalla had thought of him; though with how some species viewed humans, it wasn’t that far a stretch for her to have assumed he was a slave Ornithos toted around.

It made Ren miss his Fleet jacket, left behind on Celyste in the Xandrian hangar.

“Oh, but _still_.” She huffed, “I can’t _believe_ I assumed such a terrible thing of a newlywed couple!” She shook her head, “After this, sirs, I’ll treat you both to a drink.” She said resolutely, “And to little Thalia, maybe something nice from the bakeshop?”

“Yes, please!” Ricki chirped, and Shalla smiled at her, absolutely charmed. Ren couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Thank you very much.” He said politely, and Shalla nodded at him kindly.

“The least I could do. Xandria offers no less than the finest services, and when we mess up—and we do so rarely, mind—we see to setting things right to the very end.” Shalla said proudly. “Now, sirs, the astrocharts are right here.”

She ushered them into a wide room, the ceiling convexing into the astrochart of the Nilean system, with its star, Fira Insignia, serving as the fixture for a magnificent golden chandelier. The shelves were lined up around the circular walls. Tables encircled the middle area, which was a terminal for an astrochart reader.

“I’d like to remind you all that astrocharts are not for general release,” she said pleasantly, “Browsing only for the general public, but of course, copying files is a right reserved only for Fleet officers on official duty.” She smiled at them. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

“Thank you, Shalla,” Ren said politely, as Ornithos gave her a wink. “Ri—uh, Thalia, say thank you to the nice lady.” He said, and Ricki gave her a wide smile.

“Thank you, Miss Shalla!” She said brightly, and Shalla giggled.

“You’re welcome, Thalia,” She said, giving them a wave. “Please don’t hesitate to call me.” Shalla left the room, and shut the door behind her. As soon as she did, Ornithos made a beeline for the shelf right across them, frowning, and Ren and Ricki hung near the door, Ren warily watching him rummage through the shelves.

Ren approached them, frowning as he stood next to Ornithos. “So what are you doing now?”

“Looking at the past user log.” Ornithos replied curtly, and suddenly an impossibly long list of names scrolled up on the screen. Ricki gasped softly, as Ren clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“It's going to take forever for us to go to each and every one of these people to find that astrochart.” Ren scowled.

“No, not really.” Ornithos replied, jabbing at a few more buttons on the screen with more force than necessary, and Ricki winced. “I think I've got a pretty good idea on who could’ve done it.”

He pulled up a file, and a familiar face popped up on the screen. Ricki’s heart shot to her gut, and her blood ran cold in her veins.

Ian’s face stared back at her, expression cold, eyes thinned to snakelike slits, the frown on his face severe and unwelcome, like a puzzle piece forced into a slot not meant for it. He still had the same heart shaped face, the soft lips and the golden hair, but his eyes were determinedly _not_ Ian’s.

While Ian’s had been a kind, calming blue, this blond boy’s eyes were piercing, angry red.

“Ian…” She breathed, disbelieving at the sight before her. She could hear Ren’s breath hitch beside her, and she inched closer to him to cling onto his arm.

“Crown Prince Adder of Da’an Pas.” Ornithos gravely said. “Heard of him?”

Ricki nodded slowly. “Though I’ve never seen what he looks like before. I thought…” She paused. “He looks a lot like my old friend.”

“Figured as much.” Ornithos replied. “Da’an Pas is one of the most prominent kingdoms in the Galactic Senate. The Regent, Kalos, is Senate President.”

“I've met Senate President Kalos _._ ” Ren said, “I had to escort him during internship. My partner and I _hated_ him.”

“Charming man, isn't he?” Ornithos frowned. “But my, my, Ren. High profile escort missions for internship? You must be at the top of your class. And here I thought you were just pretty.” He smiled at that, and Ricki hit his side lightly.

“I'd appreciate this conversation going on with much less flirting, thank you.” Ren replied flatly. “Let's make it back to the ship first before I spill, then. There isn't much else we can do without that astrochart.”

“Yeah, we should.” Ricki agreed, “But what are we gonna do about the astrochart?”

“It’s with Adder.” Ornithos said, shutting off the display of the central terminal. “Whenever that guy’s involved with something, you can bet he’s up to no good.”

Ren frowned at him. “How would _you_ know?” He shot back. “He’s just a kid, isn’t he?”

“That’s what everyone thinks.” Ornithos scowled, heading back towards the door. “He can act so deceivingly innocent, sweet and kind one moment and then the next…”

Ren froze in his spot. Cadeyrn’s face flashed through his mind as Ornithos’s voice faded into Cadeyrn’s.

“ _A Dagger to the Back, Poison in the Blade._ ”

Ornithos paused in the middle of reaching for the doorknob to look at Ren over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

“You don’t know who I am, but you know about that book?” He asked slowly, and before Ren could answer him, the door jolted, loud and terrible, and the three of them jumped. The pirate swore under his breath, and ran back towards Ren and Ricki.

“In here, hurry.” He hissed, grabbing the both of them and pulling them into a crevice with him. They went into the space behind a bookshelf right across the door, the three of them only barely managing to squeeze inside the nook that formed between a structural error in the walls and the bookshelf. The moment Ornithos squeezed himself into the space, soldiers came bursting into the room.

The could hear Shalla’s voice outside, just before the door shut again, and Ren looked at Ornithos.

“We have to help Shalla.” He hissed, but Ornithos hushed him, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him as they listened to the din of soldiers rushing into the room.

Squeezed between her pilot and Ornithos, Ricki winced at the pressure around her. She looked up to see the pirate’s haunted expression as he peered outside through the storage boxes on the shelves, and she squeezed his hand. He looked down at her, wide-eyed.

“Ornithos?” She whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s…” he took a shaky breath. “It’s the Pasian Royal Guard.” He murmured back, and he ducked his head and Ren’s when a scanner passed over them. “The Regent’s personal guard. What the _hell_ are they doing here?”

“What do you mean? What could they possibly want here? Didn’t the prince already—” Ren began, but Ornithos cut him off with a quiet hiss. The two of them peered out over the tops of the bookshelves to look at the soldiers inside the room, winged Pterii of different colours in the same armour flying green flags and banners.

“Green.” Ornithos scowled. “It’s the _Regent_.”

“You’re not telling me the Prince and the Regent are enemies too?” Ren hissed, but Ornithos couldn’t answer when a tall, yellow-winged Pterii woman strode into the room. She was scowling, her golden hair up in a severe bun, and Ricki jumped when she felt Ornithos’s hand shaking in hers.

“Ornithos,” she breathed quietly, but the pirate said nothing, squeezing her hand in return instead.

“She their leader?” Ren asked, and Ornithos nodded hurriedly.

One of the soldiers approached her and gave her an unfamiliar salute—a fist over her heart, and Ren realised that it was the Pasian salute. “Perimeter clear, Ma’am.” She reported, “Minos is not in this room.”

“You’d think he’d be here, considering who was here last.” The Pasian commander replied sourly. She cast a wary glance around the room, and it felt like her gaze lingered a little longer on the little crevice the three of them hid in. “Very well. Keep this room under lockdown. Don’t let anyone in here, as per order of His Excellency.”

“It shall be done.” She bowed her head, and began to issue orders. The commander looked again at the spot Ren, Ricki and Ornithos hid, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room. Her retinue followed at her heels accompanied by the loud clanking of Pasian armour, and they waited with baited breaths as the last of the noise quieted down.

“Ren, how many people left in the room?” Ornithos murmured, and he peered at them between the gaps left by the datapads on the bookshelves.

“Two.” He replied. “One at either side of the door.”

Ornithos took a shaky breath. “Okay. Ren, you’ve had combat training, right?”

“I’ll get the one on the left, you, on the right?” Ren asked, and Ornithos grinned at him.

“You’re amazing.” He breathed, and Ren rolled his eyes.

“Just doing my job.” He drawled, and the two nodded at each other, as Ricki carefully squirmed to the side to let Ren closer to the opening. “On the count of one, two…”

“Three,” they said together, and Ren and Ornithos charged outside to take the two Pterii guards down swiftly, knocking them unconscious as Ricki made her way out of the crevice after them. She jumped when a vibroblade skittered towards her, still humming with pulsing energy, but she dodged out of its way as Ornithos began to take the Pasian guard’s blasters.

“Ornithos, be careful—Xandria has a no-weapons policy, and we can’t afford destroying anything here.” Ren told him sternly, but he, too, pocketed a Pasian blaster. Ornithos rolled his eyes.

“These guys had weapons, Ren.” He deadpanned, but the door thumped ominously again. Ren and Ornithos shared a look, and the two of them readied themselves, drawing the blasters and removing the safety as they cautiously approached the door.

Ricki hurried after them, picking up a vibroblade as an afterthought, squeaking in surprise when she accidentally activated it, alarming the two men with her.

“Ricki—”

“Kid—”

The door slammed open, and much to their surprise, a third Pasian guard fell inside, already unconscious, one of his eyes black and bruising something fierce. Ren and Ornithos gaped, looking up to see a panting Shalla, her fist held out, her knuckles barely pink.

“… Shalla?” Ren said after a long moment of stunned silence, and _that_ seemed to snap her out of her trance.

“Khal! Aloi!” She gasped, hurrying inside, jumping over the unconscious Pterii to approach them. “Where’s Thalia?”

“Right here!” Ricki squeaked, shaking as she held out the thrumming vibroblade away from her. Shalla gasped and hurried to her, turning the weapon off and tossing it aside distastefully. She hugged her tightly, and picked her up easily.

“Khal, I—” She stopped herself as she hurried back to Ren and Ornithos, and she shook her head. “No. Exalted Pirate Minos—”

Ren reared back, shocked. “H-how did you know?”

Shalla looked sheepish.

“Well, I,” she stammered, “A while ago, we had a guest here at Xandria who came here looking for a particular astrochart, just like you.” She would say more, but the ground shook, and she looked panicked. “Oh, no.”

“We better get out of here,” Ornithos said urgently, “Shalla, do you know a safe route back to the hangar bays? We really can’t afford to get caught by either Da’an Pas or the Fleet.”

Shalla nodded, no hint of hesitation on her face. “Follow me.” She said, pushing past them to head to the back of the room, where two bookshelves stood next to each other, at an odd distance. “Here, this way.”

She pressed a hidden button on the side of the shelf, and it slid aside. The three of them gaped at her, and she beamed at them proudly. “VIP passage. When we get high profile guests, we usually let them through these ways so they don’t attract too much attention.” She explained, “Now, hurry, before they find us. Aloi, please shut the door.”

Ren nodded, and hurried to close the door behind them, and when he hurried back, he was surprised Ornithos had waited for him. They met eyes, and Ornithos nodded, beckoning him onward first, before following suit.

They followed Shalla, still carrying Ricki in her arms, down the warmly-lit hallways, following the path of gold-hue lamps that seemed to throb softly, and Ricki felt oddly calm, despite the situation.

“Shalla,” She said, “What’re those lights made of?”

“Xandrian amber.” Shalla replied, turning a corner, and behind her Ren and Ornithos followed without difficulty. “They pulse every once in a while to soothe our customers down, but I like to believe it’s my planet’s heartbeat.”

Ricki smiled softly. “Like its Heartstone?” She asked softly, and Shalla giggled.

“Yes, like its very own Heartstone.” She agreed.

Ren and Ornithos looked on, and they smiled softly at their exchange.

“Hey, um, why are you helping us?” Ricki asked, “I-if you don’t mind me asking.”

Shalla lit up. “Well, I’ve always heard stories of the handsome, dashing and brave Exalted Pirate Minos,” she gushed, and Ornithos smirked at Ren, who rolled his eyes. “About how he’s such a noble man, freeing slaves and stealing from smugglers and the rich to help those who need him.”

At that, Ren blinked, and he cocked his head at Ornithos. He was answered with a noncommittal shrug.

“And I thought—oh, how romantic—to be in a story Captain Minos lives in, and look at me now!” Shalla giggled. “It’s just like a story, isn’t it, Thalia?”

“Yeah!” Ricki chirped, and Ren sighed exasperatedly.

“Must be fun,” he drawled, catching their attentions, “Y’know, minus the real and looming danger of us getting arrested and possibly executed?”

The two girls ahead of him giggled sheepishly, and Ornithos chuckled.

“Come on, babe, let them have their fun.”

“Oh, wait—Captain, since you’re in disguise, are you really married to Aloi?” Shalla asked, hope in her eyes, and Ren blushed.

“We aren’t,” He said, just as Ornithos said, “We are.”

“Oh, my.” Shalla blinked, and Ren elbowed Ornithos in the side, _hard_. The man simply laughed.

“Wait, here,” Shalla turned another corner, and they followed after her, bursting outside into the Xandrian hangar bay, luckily only a few metres away from where Celyste was parked. “Here she is—Minos’s ship.” Shalla’s eyes welled with tears at the sight as she put Ricki down. “It’s beautiful, just like the stories said.”

Ren smiled at her fondly, and he patted her shoulder. “Thank you so much, Shalla. We owe you a lot.”

She grinned at him. “I suppose my debt of that drink to you two is even?” She giggled, and Ren laughed.

“Alright, sure.” He nodded. “C’mon.” Ren tapped Ricki’s shoulder, and they headed onward towards Celyste, her entrance ramp descending with the hiss of steam.

“Shalla.” Ornithos said, and the blonde turned around to look at him, eyes wide, only to get swept up in his arms. She squeaked, and he kissed her, hard, dipping her down low.

Ren gasped, and he hurried to cover Ricki’s eyes.

Shalla melted in his embrace, and she threw her arms around the back of Ornithos’s neck to deepen their kiss.

“Any minute now, please!” Ren yelled, his voice cracking in mortification, as Ricki squirmed in his arms.

Ornithos parted from Shalla, grinning as she smiled back up at him dreamily.

“You kiss… just like the stories say you do.” She sighed, and he chuckled, kissing her nose.

“I may just want to hear some of those to see how accurate they are.” He said, “But for now, until we meet again, Lady Shalla. Thank you for everything.”

“No, Captain, thank _you_.” She said, and he straightened her up. “Safe travels.”

He gave her one last peck on the cheek, and with a cheeky wink, he hurried back into Celyste.

Ren smacked his side as he sat heavily down on the copilot seat, grinning widely, as Ricki giggled.

“Looks like she had a good time,” she said pleasantly, and Ren looked up at her witheringly as he and Ornithos busied themselves in taking off. “What, Ren? Do you want a kiss, too?”

“Wouldn’t mind.” Ornithos said cheerfully, and Ren hit him again.

“Focus,” he said pointedly, and got them in the air.

Ornithos laughed good-naturedly, pulling off his jacket to pull his usual red coat back on, helping Ricki out of her holomask and pulling his own off, stuffing them back into the pocket of his coat. “Ren, let me help you out of that.” He said, pulling Ren’s holomask off after a grunt of approval from the pilot. “And your jacket.”

“Thanks,” Ren bit out, opening his mouth to speak, but he cut himself off when Celyste jolted.

“Laser fire!” Ricki gasped, and Ren scowled.

“Alright,” he huffed, “Hold on, the both of you. I’ll get us out of here.”


	15. Adder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wily, manipulative, and cruel, Crown Prince Adder of Da'an Pas was a boy of many talents.

_The Centrus System, 121 Parsecs from the Galactic Centre_

_The Fleet Garrison_

It was nearing 2:30 in the simulated morning in the Fleet Garrison, but Stella Fulgore wasn't one to follow the usual night and day cycle others followed.

A messy-haired blonde Felid girl bent over a tiny robot she had been tinkering with for the past few days, her hands skittering over the fine tools at how nervous she felt. Dove’s fur stood on its end near-constantly, as anxiety burned deep in her gut as she waited. Her tail flicked irately as she soldered a gear into place for the third time.

The cloying scent of burning plastic and metal shook her out of her thoughts, and she hissed, baring her fangs in annoyance. She turned off her soldering iron, and threw it aside, uncaring of where it landed as she pushed her large, round glasses up her head like a headband. She didn’t need them—she had perfect vision—but she appreciated having something to fidget with. _Especially_ when _he_ was making her wait like this.

What was taking him so damn long?

He couldn't have been caught. There was _no way_ he would let himself be—

The doorbell rang, a shocking, gut-wrenching screech of a buzz she had yet to fix, and she jumped, hissing again in shock, her ears and tail standing up ramrod straight.

He was here.

“Took your damn time,” she snarled, getting up, and she stalked to the door, wrenching it open to let the cold night air in. At the door stood a hooded Pterii, white-winged and smaller than his kind, and behind him two more of his species, one violet and the other blue-winged, larger and hulking and also in hoods. Dove frowned at them.

“You remember me.” The white-winged Pterii simply said curtly, and Dove’s expression tightened.

“In.” She hissed, ushering them all inside. The two taller Pterii crowded the room, hunching their backs slightly under the low ceiling, while Dove ushered the smallest Pterii to a rolling chair across her usual seat. “Has anyone followed you?” She demanded, her ears folding flat over her head, now barely visible under the messy spikes of her hair.

“No.” He replied, before setting down a data chip on the table in front of her. “Thank you for this. But you should have told me that I would be using _my_ identification information rather than some dummy one.”

“Stealing information from Xandria is illegal.” Dove snapped back, snatching the chip from the table to inspect it. “I hope you have what you need. This was risking _my_ neck, too, if anyone figured out the code I used.”

A huff from under the hood answered her. “What do you know about the Velian System?”

Dove paused. “... What about the Velian system?” She asked slowly.

“I’ve come to know of a certain Exalted Pirate looking for it. Do you know why?”

“No.” Dove answered too quickly, and she regretted it even faster. “... No.” she said again after a long moment. “I’m not aware of some pirate’s intentions.”

She couldn’t see the Pterii’s expression under his hood, but she knew he was probably smirking. Her hand balled into a fist under the table, and she began to rapidly calculate how much damage an ion cannon blast would cause her small workshop. Her tail flicked left and right irately, and she grabbed it to hold it down.

“Fair enough.” He replied. “You’ve spent so much time in the Garrison you’ve probably stagnated in here long enough those energy drinks have rotted through that smart little brain of yours. Perhaps all you can see is the Garrison, and whatever General Orent tells you.” He got up, turning to leave, only he stopped at the sound of the click of a blaster’s safety.

Dove held Orent’s blaster in her shaking hand, pointed right between the Pterii’s wings. “You don’t know Orent like I do.” She growled, baring her fangs at him.

“... Indeed.” He replied without looking at her, before gesturing at the two hulking Pterii to head out the door before him. “All I know of him is that he is a dog of the Fleet, a muzzle over his snappy mouth, all bark and no bite.”

“Something terrible happened in the Velian system.” Dove snapped. “The records are still in the Garrison black box, probably, but whatever it is, Orent cared enough not to tell me.”

“Scared easily, Stella Fulgore?” His tone was mocking. “My, you and Orent do match each other very well. The scaredy kitten and the blind barking puppy.”

Dove screamed angrily, throwing the blaster at the Pterii’s back, but his wing easily slapped it aside.

“Thank you for that information. Try a little harder to keep up with me next time, my dear.” He purred. “I’ll be back with word for you in a little love letter.”

He stepped out of her workshop easily, the door sliding shut behind him too late to block out her scream of frustration at him. His guards approached him as he chuckled darkly at her rage.

“Your Highness, we should make haste.” The blue-winged Pterii said. She ushered him along gently, and the three of them hurried through the streets of the Garrison colony.

“Romerus is arriving soon.” The violet-winged one reported, peering at her phone. “We can make it if we do as you said—”

“And go through the window.” The white-winged Pterii chuckled. “This is turning out to be quite the adventure.”

His guards shared worried looks, as they ducked into a indiscreet passageway, heading straight for a Pasian civilian carrier. The blue-winged Pterii lowered her hood as she entered, sighing deeply and shaking out her short blue hair, and the violet Pterii helped her liege in before lowering her own hood as well, giggling softly as the blue Pterii raised their entrance ramp.

“Never liked the hoods, did you, Linde?” She asked, and Linde grinned at her over her shoulder.

“Us of Bluewing Valley love our freedom, Vesta.” She said easily. “Your Highness, please strap in. I will do my best to return to Da’an Pas in record time.”

The white winged Pterii laughed. “By all means.” He said. “Have fun, Linde. Vesta, please make sure we survive.”

Vesta laughed, and sat next to her to co-pilot. Left alone in the passenger seat, Crown Prince Adder of Da’an Pas lowered his hood to frown at the Fleet Garrison as their ship made their ascent.

In his hand, he toyed with the Velian system’s astrochart data chip, and thought back to his conversation with Dove.

_Something terrible happened in the Velian system._

His expression tightened.

And somehow, Minos was interested in it.

The clues his brother left him were like breadcrumbs, but he wasn't a Falconid, son of the late King Maianos, for nothing.

His hand tightened around the data chip.

“Brother…” he murmured, “What had you been up to?”

* * *

_The Pasian System, 730.5 parsecs from the Galactic Centre_

_Da’an Pas II - Capital Colony_

To start a revolution took a spark that ignited a flame that would last a lifetime. The flame of inspiration, of power, to burn down the old and replace with the new; the flame that would fuel the passion in people’s hearts to bring about change to the land you called your home.

Romerus of the Astrid Waterfalls had been a simple man. A fisherman with wings of blue-green, he and his family had long run the simple, self-sustaining business of managing their family fishery for generations. His family had been in the business ever since Da’an Pas had its own soil and waters, ever since before the floating marvel that was the Pasian colony atop a gas giant.

His home, now, among the stars, bound to no earth that revolved around a sun.

He had never made it to the time before the Pasian exodus, but he had always thought of the Pasian lands as his home, his to love and cherish alongside the many others of his empire, ruled by a royal family of benevolence and good governance.

But then the King died, his son—the _Crown Prince himself_ —accused of such a heinous crime, executed, and his second wife had killed herself out of grief.

And that had left their youngest son—their _only_ son, now—Prince Adder, alone and lonely in a castle of vipers, as his uncle began to systematically destroy all Romerus had fallen in love with with the Pasian empire, in his greed to have it all.

That was probably the spark Romerus needed, now the leader of the Capital’s faction in the Pasian Civil Wars. It had begun from the farthest ends of the Pasian system, from Bous, the Land of Iron, to Penxos, a mining colony and tourist spot. Penxos was special to the princes’ hearts, Romerus knew. It was where Prince Adder and his brother once played together when they were younger.

Romerus had kept the news clips on his databank storage, to remind him of what could have been, of what his people could have if they won this Civil War.

Now, the war’s influence had spread to the capital itself, and Romerus knew he could not take this sweeping nationalism sitting down. He swiftly climbed the ranks of the faction they had set up, until he was a de facto head of the faction in the capital, campaigning for other Pasians, Pterii or not, to fight as well, for the return of the _true_ Falconid to the throne.

He was fighting for Prince Adder, he thought. He was fighting for Da’an Pas.

He just wasn’t sure if his efforts were being noticed, covertly done in the shadows of the night-cycle in the streets of Da’an Pas, until a violet-winged Pasian guard approached him with a letter.

 _Can you really help me?_ It simply asked, and Romerus just _knew_ whom it came from.

“The Palace Gardens,” the Royal Guard told him, “Two hours past midnight, on the twentieth Ophicus.”

Romerus could only nod dumbly.

Prince Adder wanted to see him.

 _That_ , perhaps, was the spark that set him off, and he found himself huddled under the bushes of _gerae_ flowers that had yet to bloom in the Palace Gardens, quietly waiting for the time to tick the second hour past midnight. He heard a low whistle, and he saw the violet-winged guard march towards him, as if on patrol.

“His Highness is in the backmost room of the third floor. Facing the west. The balcony doors should be open.” She told him quietly, and he nodded.

Romerus gulped as he watched her leave, as if she had not seen anything out of the ordinary, and when the air was still and no light save for the moon lit his way, he flew from his hiding spot and into the cold night air. He shivered slightly, but he made his way to where the guard had told him, and found a balcony with open doors, translucent white curtains fluttering from inside. He landed quietly on the balcony, cautiously approaching the open door, to find blue light emanating from inside the room.

Curiosity overpowered his cautiousness, and he stepped inside to find Prince Adder seated on his bed, dressed in a loose, white chiton as he looked up longingly at a blue-tinted hologram of his brother.

Romerus froze in his place. He had heard only rumours, seen rare, grainy photographs of the elusive prince, having practically disappeared from the sight of the citizens since the start of his uncle’s Regency, of what he looked like, but no description or photograph could compare to the beauty that faced away from him.

His hair looked like spun gold, pure and looking soft to the touch, brushing against soft, pale skin that seemed to have an ethereal glow from the hologram in front of him. His face was gentle, innocent, like an angel’s, lips parted slightly in the beginnings of a silent plea to the image in front of him. His small, elegant hands were clasped together, held to his chest as if he was praying to his brother, and Romerus’s eyes trailed down to see smooth, bare legs folded under him, creasing the blue silk of his sheets.

And then, there were his wings. _Gods_ , Romerus thought, his _wings_.

The purest of white, folded neatly behind him, as the white silk of his chiton slid down his smooth shoulders, and Romerus thought even looking felt like a sin.

Prince Adder was a work of art. He was ethereal, beautiful, just like his mother before him. Queen Jasande had been known for her incredible beauty, but aside from that she was also a master tactician, a dynamic commander-in-chief of the Pasian army. There were few who could even _come close_ to the sharpness of her wit, but her son was so much like her.

Romerus had heard before how Adder could easily beat his own brother at Skáki at the tender age of 7, or of how until now the Regent had found quite the challenge in a game of Skáki against his nephew.

He hadn’t realised he had bumped into a small table, knocking a small goblet to the ground until Adder had suddenly turned to look at him, beautiful red eyes growing wide, and a single word tumbled out of his lips.

“Close,” he gasped, and his brother’s image faded into darkness, the hologram disappearing at his single command. Romerus realised that Adder had been wearing earrings of beautiful royal blue sapphires, and he flushed when the prince hurried to cover himself up in his sheets.

He stood there, awkwardly, surprised at having interrupted such a private moment, but he snapped out of his shame when Adder had said something again, and soft warm lights illuminated the room.

“I-I apologise,” Romerus stammered, getting down on one knee, lowering his head and pressing his fist to his heart. “F-for interrupting you at a time like this.”

Adder regarded him for a long moment, and Romerus dared to lift his head to see the blond was watching him with a worried, shy look on his face. When their eyes met, the prince flushed deeply, and Romerus felt his cheeks do the same.

His Prince, despite his hellish life, was _precious_. Still pure and innocent. He could thank Mileyeus and all the gods of the Pantheon for small mercies.

“No,” Adder said softly, “Please rise, Lord Romerus. Here, you are a guest.”

Romerus rose, smiling softly at his Prince. “I am no Lord, Your Highness.” He bowed his head humbly. “I am but a fisherman.”

“A fisherman… who now leads the faction fighting for my ascension to the throne.” Adder replied, and Romerus blinked at him, surprised. Adder flushed prettily, and hid his face behind a hand daintily. “F-forgive me.” He stuttered, but Romerus shook his head.

“No, there is nothing to apologise for,” Romerus approached him, hands out to placate him, but he hesitated, before he could touch Adder’s skin. The prince looked up at him, wide-eyed, and Romerus pulled his hand away from him. “I-uh, apologies.”

Adder shook his head, and much to Romerus’s surprise, took his hand and pressed his cheek against it, sighing deeply.

“Y-Your Highness?”

“Your hands are rough.” He said softly, almost reverently, and Romerus felt his heart rate shoot up, thundering loudly in his chest as Adder shut his eyes, leaning into his warmth. “Do my people truly suffer as you do, to have such calloused hands like this?”

“No, milord.” He replied softly, and he couldn’t help but relish the look of innocent surprise on the blond prince’s face. He dared cup his prince’s face in his hand properly, large against the petit blonde by contrast. Emboldened by the sigh that he pulled from Adder’s lips, he dared thumb at Adder’s cheek, and the prince simply _melted_ in his touch. “It is not suffering, to serve under someone like you.”

“Do you desire to?” Adder asked breathily, and Romerus’s eyes dropped down to his lips, parted beautifully, a pink bow’s arc. “You would do whatever I bid?”

“If you asked me to die this moment, I would.” He breathed, and he dared to touch his prince’s lips, delighting in their soft give under his touch.

“Romerus,” Adder sighed, his lips moving against Romerus’s thumb. “Why fight for me? Why all this? Why this war?”

“To Da’an Pas, _you_ are the rightful ruler to our land. The Regent has gone on with destroying your kingdom for far too long.” He felt Adder’s hands reach for his face, stroking his skin curiously before moving up to tangle his fingers in his hair.

Adder pulled his head up with a gentle tug on his hair, and their eyes met.

“And to you?” His voice was barely a whisper, and their faces were so close.

“You are worth an entire empire,” he replied, “To me.” The amendment was quick, surprisingly, in his distracted mind, his world narrowing down to the red eyes that stared back at him with wide-eyed innocence.

“An empire,” Adder repeated, his eyes dropping under golden eyelashes, lowering his head. “I have been watching you, Romerus of the Astrid Waterfalls.” He said, leaning away from him. “Through my eyes on the streets, my ever-loyal Vesta.”

Romerus’s eyes widened. “The violet woman.”

Adder nodded. “Yes. I have heard your words through hers, I have heard your love for Da’an Pas.”

The prince’s hands moved down to cup his face in his hands, yet the blond did not meet his eyes.

“Your love for my family. My brother.”

His voice quivered, lonely, still in mourning, and Romerus’s heart yearned to soothe the pain in it.

“My love, for you.” He said, softly, and he lifted Adder’s chin to meet his eye. He marvelled in the way the blond’s cheeks flushed darker, blossoming red across his pale skin, the sweet pink of bruising fruit. “My prince, I…”

“Please kiss me.” Adder whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He surged forward, capturing his lips with his own, and it felt like the worst nightmare coupled with the best dream he had ever had. Adder’s arms wrapped around the back of his neck, deepening their kiss as he suddenly leaned back, pulling Romerus down with him to straddle him. He parted from their kiss, shocked, and he looked down at the blond, panting softly, lips kiss-swollen, and he felt his blood burn with desire to kiss him again. To pull apart that beautiful chiton to explore the smooth, smooth skin underneath. With his hands. With his lips. He wondered what kinds of noises the beautiful prince would make as he did that.

“Your words touched me.” He panted headily, and Romerus thought he already had. “Your devotion… stirs me.”

“I am your servant, Prince Adder. Command me.”

“The Cestria,” Adder said, cupping Romerus’s face in his hand, “Will you fight for me even during the Cestria?”

“I could fight for you even if the Regent outlaws it.” He vowed, “M-my liege.”

Adder hummed slowly, blinking up at him, as if in a daze.

“Why did you ask me to kiss you?”

At that, the blond smiled slowly, coy and yet shy, and he sat up, bringing their faces close again.

“Win me the Civil War, Romerus, and I will tell you why.” He said softly, taking his hand to rest it on his bare thigh, and the two of them shivered. “And perhaps tell you something more.”

“Your Highness,” he panted, “May I kiss you again?”

Adder simply smiled at him, and he moved forward once more, claiming Adder’s lips as he stroked the skin of his thigh, only to earn him a shove to his chest.

“Don’t touch,” he whispered against his lips, “Win me that war, first.”

Romerus opened his mouth to speak, but Adder pushed forward to kiss him again, this time open-mouthed, and before Romerus could respond with tongue, Adder pulled away again.

“I think…” he panted, “It is time for you to leave.”

“My Prince, I…”

“Dawn is rising, dear Romerus.” Adder stroked his cheek. “I don’t want you to get into danger.”

Romerus smiled at him, and he held his hand. “I understand.”

“Gather your army by the Cestria, Romerus, and come find me on the second day.” He said. “I _need_ you.”

The last sentence was breathy, almost a moan one would hear in the throes of pleasure, and the man shuddered.

“Understood.” He nodded numbly, and with a simple push at his chest, he backed off from the bed, unsteadily getting up on his feet. “Until we meet again, Your Highness.”

“Goodbye, Romerus.” Adder smiled at him, rolling over in bed to smile at him over his shoulder. “And goodnight.”

“Good… night…” the man replied slowly, before he shook his head to clear it. He turned back away towards the balcony and flew off, and when Romerus was finally gone, Adder dropped his smile to scowl.

“Gullible fool.” He grumbled, rolling out of bed, frowning disdainfully. “I need a bath.”


	16. Tropos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The land of relentless, cruel monsoons.

_The Nilean System, 524 parsecs from the Galactic Centre_

Ren couldn’t get them out of danger in time.

Celyste shuddered dangerously, her alarms blaring frighteningly around them as the displays flashed red, and Ricki held on for dear life on the back of Ornithos’s seat.

“What the _hell_ just happened?” Ornithos demanded, as Ren wrenched Celyste’s controls around as hard as he could, trying to dodge the laser fire hot on their tail.

“Shields are down!” Ren jabbed a finger in the general direction of the panel flashing orange to the left of Ornithos’s head. “I’m trying to get us to a planet where it’ll be hard for them to follow after us, but—”

An explosion on their tail shook them dangerously, and Ricki screamed, clinging onto Ornithos as he grabbed her to keep her from flying around. He held her close to himself as he turned to look at Ren.

“Ren, there’s a planet not too far away from Xandria, same system, it’s called—”

_Crash._

The three of them let out yells of alarm and protest.

“Tropos, it’s called Tropos,” Ornithos bit out. Celyste lurched dangerously, but he held on tightly to Ricki to keep her from flying around. “Can you see it?”

“Trop—is it the green planet there? Bad turbulence?” Ren winced as another laser shot hit their wing, and the ship spiralled out of control.

“Yes!” Ornithos grabbed Ren’s hand and pushed the controls down, pulling them into a nosedive straight towards a completely green planet, almost grey in appearance, as they shot through thick stormclouds, heavy rain practically obscuring their vision as the ship surged into thick canopy, crashing into the ground before dragging along and downing trees until it came to a stop after leaving a path of felled trees in its wake.

* * *

Ricki’s eyes opened slowly, and she realised that she was still wrapped in Ornithos’s arms. The redhead looked unconscious, but when she shifted slightly, checking herself if she broke anything, Ornithos groaned, and stirred awake.

“Ornithos,” she gasped, as he slowly came back to consciousness, and he blinked at her confusedly.

“Ricki. You okay?” He asked dazedly, and she nodded. “Yep, good.” He shook his head, and looked around the dark, ruined cockpit. “Where’s Ren?”

I-I dunno,” Ricki could feel the beginnings of pain in her shin, and she did _not_ like where this was going. “B-but we have to find him, o-or—”

The ship jolted around them, tilting incredibly to the side, and rubble moved aside to show them the unconscious Ren, trapped between a slab of Celyste’s wall that had fallen on his backrest and the control panel behind the windshield.

“Ren!” Ricki gasped, and the trickle of water and the loud, grating creak of metal drowned out the rest of her voice when the ship lurched, and fell on its side.

Ornithos and Ricki fell towards Ren as it tipped, and the redhead grabbed her to keep her safe before he slammed down on the wall trapping Ren to the control panel.

There was a blood-curdling _snap_ , and Ricki screamed.

Searing pain tore at her leg, and she clung onto Ornithos blindly, writhing as the pain of fracturing bone burned her blood. It wasn't her who broke her bone, but it hurt just as bad. One small consolation was that this had only been _half_ the pain Ren would have felt, but that didn't make things any better.

“Ricki, what's wrong?” Ornithos turned her carefully but she shook her head, tears prickling at her eyes.

“R-Ren. You need to find Ren.” She choked, wincing as she crawled away from Ornithos to stand in the cockpit. “I-I think that snap was him.”

Ornithos’s eyes widened, and he hurried off the rubble to push it aside, huffing in exertion as he managed to get it off Ren. They were met with a groan, and Ornithos hurried forward to gently pry Ren out from the metal trap he was in. He winced when he saw Ren’s left leg bleeding, hanging limp as he pulled Ren out, and he carefully set Ren down on the floor.

“Ren, are you awake? Can you hear me?” He said, concern marring his face as he cupped Ren’s cheek in his hand. “Hey. C’mon. Beautiful.”

Ren groaned, and he peered up at Ornithos.

“I'm… fine.” He managed, “Where’s… Ricki?”

“Over here,” she gasped in relief.  “You broke your leg.”

“Figured as much.” Ren scowled. “You okay?” He asked her, and she bit her lip. He knew she was sharing in his pain, and she could feel the worry in his heart about Ornithos finding out.

“Yeah.”

“Ornithos, think you can find something to set my leg?” Ren winced, and the redhead nodded, looking around until he found a pipe sticking out from one of the broken panels. He snapped it off with little effort and returned to Ren, gently setting the pipe next to Ren’s leg before digging through the rubble to pull out the jacket he wore at Xandria.

“I'll try to be gentle.” He said, carefully wrapping his jacket around Ren’s leg and the pipe, and Ren bit back his groan of pain as Ornithos worked quickly. “This isn't gonna do much, though. We need to get you to an actual hospital.”

“No duh,” Ren replied. “Does Tropos have a spaceport?”

Ornithos nodded, turning to look at the cracked display screen. “Though I'm not sure how close we are to it. We could be on the other side of the planet.”

Ricki bit her lip worriedly, as outside the rain roared on. “And it's raining, too. His wound might get infected.”

“Yeah.” Ornithos frowned deeply. “The monsoons in Tropos are relentless. The whole planet floods over, and the spaceport closes itself off until the flood recedes.” He shook his head. “Damn it. Those Pasian fighters…”

Ricki held Ornithos’s arm reassuringly. “We have to get out of here first, or we’ll get flooded too.”

Ornithos nodded, and carefully he picked Ren up. The human winced, and Ricki did too, and the redhead cocked his head at her. “You okay, kid?”

“Y-yeah.” Ricki replied shakily. “Come on, let's go.”

* * *

They had found shelter higher up a mountain not too far from where they crash landed. Ricki led Ornithos to a cave she had found, scouting ahead for them, and when the three of them settled down inside, they were all soaked to the bone.

Outside the mouth of the cave, the rain roared on, and Ricki looked up at it worriedly as Ornithos tended to Ren, who drifted in and out of consciousness.

“Hey, Ricki,” Ornithos said gently, and she turned to see him beckoning her over from where he sat, cross-legged, next to a sleeping Ren. She made her way to him, wincing at the squelch of her wet shoes, and he patted his knee. She sat down, and Ornithos undid her hair ties to wring out the water in her hair. She smiled at him as he helped her out of her jacket to wring it out, too, and he gave her a lopsided grin.

“Y’know, kid, we're probably the luckiest bastards to ever crash on Tropos.” He said.

“Ren’s gonna get mad at you for saying bad words.” She giggled.

“Yeah, but he won't be so mad if I managed to make us a fire.” He grinned, and Ricki cocked her head.

“You can?” She blinked at him.

“Hell yeah, I can.” Ornithos winked at her. “Can you see into the back of the cave?”

Ricki squinted at the darkness beyond them, and she shook her head.

“Tropos is a pretty popular camping site, during the seasons not trying to drown people in it.” He patted her side, and Ricki got up. Ornithos wandered to the back of the cave, completely disappearing into the pitch blackness, and Ricki tensed up, inching closer to Ren out of worry.

“Ornithos?” She ventured uneasily, “Where are you going?”

“Just a sec,” Ornithos’s voice echoed from the back of the cave, and she bit her lip, holding Ren’s hand in worry as she waited. She heard the echo of a hissed curse from him and a crash. She jumped slightly, jostling Ren awake.

“Ricki?” He mumbled. “What's… going on?”

“Uh,” Ricki began, but Ornithos came back, in his arms several—mercifully dry—logs, and a portable torch held in his mouth. Ricki’s eyes widened and she hurried up to him as Ren sat up, groaning softly.

She took the torch from Ornithos’s mouth when he dropped it into her hands, and he gave her a grin.

“Thanks, kid. Let me just arrange these and you can light them up yourself.”

He got down to set up a campfire next to Ren, and when he nodded at Ricki, she pulled the trigger on the torch and a small laser blast shot out of it to set the middle of the logs on fire. Ornithos looked relieved, shucking out of his jacket to huddle close to the warmth, sighing deeply. Ricki did the same.

“Is that… a fire?” Ren mumbled, and Ornithos nodded, grinning.

“We need the warmth.” He simply said. “Go back to sleep, you need the rest.”

Much to Ricki’s surprise, Ren simply nodded, letting Ornithos arrange him to lean on his side, head on his shoulder before falling asleep again.

Ornithos chuckled. “He's really cute when he's not picking fights with me.”

Ricki giggled, and she nodded, settling down against Ornithos’s other side.

A long moment of silence later, Ricki realised Ornithos had fallen asleep, too, his head tipped back against the wall as he snored softly. She smiled fondly at him and shuffled gently away to let the two men sleep next to each other. She made her way to the entrance of the cave, sighing deeply as she sat down, hugging her knees close to herself as she watched the rain come down in torrents outside.

A week ago, she couldn’t have imagined being in a situation like this—on the run from the authorities, stuck in a cave with an injured pilot and a man—a friend?—who had no idea what she was, and she still had no time to properly mourn the loss of someone dear to her.

She sighed, and rested her forehead against her knees.

She thought back to those days in the infirmary, when Andrew never left her side as she still struggled to process her grief while Fleet officials interrogated her without giving her any room to breathe—or to even think properly. In the end, she realised, the interrogations and harassment were all for show.

Her sentence was already predetermined.

It had all been planned, ever since the beginning—ever since that night she and Ian were in Hangar 2’s connecting hallway.

The lavender-haired woman—the Bosian with her dead face and skin and body—was like a walking ghost, the very image of haunting spirits she and Ian imagined wandering the abandoned hangar. Ricki didn’t know who she was, or what she wanted, but she saw that knife in her hand. She saw the same one presented as evidence, but of course her protests wouldn’t be heard—no one had the intention to listen to her in the first place.

She took a deep, shaky breath, and thought back to the last time she was with Andrew.

It was right before her thwarted execution, when he had pulled rank on her guards to be with her before they sent her to the Executor.

He had held her face in his hands tenderly, and she could see the pain in his eyes—the despair of a father losing another one of his children, and she had felt like crying all over again.

“ _Aurum, do you still want to find Neverwhere?_ ” He had asked her.

Despite all that had happened to her, her answer had never changed.

“ _If that's where Ian went, then I know I_ have _to._ ”

If anything, it only made her resolve _firmer_.

She was going to bring Ian back to prove her innocence, or die trying.

At first, the steps to get there had been clear—find that astrochart Ornithos mentioned, get to Neverwhere, but now with the Pasian conflict rearing its ugly head towards them, Ricki didn't know how simple things would be anymore. She thought back to the prince’s photograph on Xandria—how he looked so much like Ian, save for his eyes. It was hard to imagine someone looking so much like Ian to be anything _but_ Ian, and she remembered Ornithos’s actions back on Xandria.

He had spoken about Prince Adder with such animosity, but Ricki couldn't see hate in the way he spoke. With the way his expression drooped, he looked more… bitterly disappointed than hateful.

She looked at Ornithos. She had heard from Met that the Pasians loved their royal family. The king was mourned greatly when he passed, but the old crown prince had been even more loved.

Oddly, she couldn't find his name on any records she could remember. She didn't know why.

The redhead stirred, groaning gently to blink at Ricki.

“Rickster?” He asked, as beside him, Ren stirred. “You not sleeping?”

“Just thinking.” Ricki replied, coming back to sit next to Ren as he fully woke up. “Hi, Ren. You okay?”

“I… think so.” Ren groaned. “My head’s spinning.”

Ornithos cupped his face in his hand to inspect it carefully. “You're looking a little pale, too.” He stroked back Ren’s dripping wet hair. “But you sure can make bleeding dry with a broken leg and soaked to the bone still look beautiful.”

“At a time like this—why do you keep calling me that?” Ren snapped, and Ricki held his hand, trying to calm him down. “Are you trying to mess with me? Because that's not a good idea, _Captain_.” He spat.

Ornithos held his hands up to placate him. “Hey, now. Let's not pick fights.”

“ _You're_ the one messing with me, Ornithos.” Ren shot back. Ricki watched on worriedly. If they fought here, they could run into some serious problems. Ren tended to have a shorter fuse when he was stressed out—he lashed out the more scared he felt.

“I don't pick fights with people I'm interested in.” He replied simply, poking at the embers of the fire absently.

“What do you mean?” Ren’s voice was growing heady, winded with pain and blood loss, and Ricki’s stomach turned in fear for him.

“I _mean_ ,” Ornithos replied patiently, brushing Ren’s hair aside to pat his cheek. “I don't beat people down while they can't fight back. Besides, you're too pretty to hit, anyway.”

Ren squinted at him. “Then why are you so fixated on me?”

“I come from Da’an Pas.” Ornithos said, like it explained everything, and Ren and Ricki paused. Ornithos looked at them for a moment in confusion, before he dissolved into warm chuckles. “Do you two live under a rock? I'm Pterii. It’s in our culture.”

“Where are your wings?” Ricki found herself asking before she could stop herself, and she deflated when she saw the defeated, bitter sadness that spread across Ornithos’s expression.

“The royal family had them cut off.” He laughed humorlessly when Ren and Ricki gasped. “That commander we saw at Xandria? She’s the one who cut them off. Her name’s Vivere.”

“I'm so sorry.” Ricki breathed, and Ren pursed his lips. “So _that's_ why you were…”

“Don't say it, kid.” Ornithos said, though with little venom.

 _Frightened_ , Ricki was going to say, but all of them heard it unsaid.

“But nah, it's not that big a loss. I can get by. Wings don't work well when you're a pirate, anyway. They get in the way more than you'd think.” He stoked their fire again. “We Pterii are a colourful bunch. Hair and eyes and wings every colour out there. Green, yellow, red, blue—nice bright colours.” He looked at Ren pensively. “But among the rarest colours for us is black and white. Wings, hair, eyes. Anyone with black hair and eyes, _man_.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Gorgeous.”

Ren flushed deeply. “So it's a cultural thing.”

“It also helps your face is quite pleasant too.” Ornithos winked at him.

Ren threw dirt at him, and he only laughed, though his mirth didn't quite reach his eyes. They bounced away from him and some landed in the fire, dousing it slightly. Outside, the rain roared on, drowning out the gentle crackle of the flame between them.

“So there. I can only guess when the monsoon will be over, but you can bet to hell that I'll save you, Ren. Don't doubt me. Rickster here doesn't.”

It was Ricki's turn to blush. “It's hard not to, when he's helped us a lot.” She said shyly.

“I'll be the judge of that.” He replied flatly. “Why did you lose your wings, anyway?”

“Treason, they said.” Ornithos sighed. “All I did was talk trash about Kalos, and they're suddenly calling it treason.” He rested his chin on his fist and looked off to the side. “That, among other things…”

There it was again, the disappointed look he had in his eyes when he talked about Prince Adder. Ricki felt a pang of pity in her gut for him.

“Is this about Prince Adder?” She asked softly, and Ornithos chuckled humorlessly.

“He betrayed me.” He said. “That book Ren mentioned— _Tiléto Stine Pháti, Dilitíro Stine Lepída_.” Pasian rolled off Ornithos’s tongue easily. “ _Dagger in the Back, Poison in the Blade_. Makes me wonder if—”

“—Life imitates art, and not the other way around.” Ren finished, and Ornithos smirked at him tiredly.

“And well-read, huh?” He asked. “You're quoting King Maianos himself.”

“N-no.” Ren shook his head. “I just… heard it from someone.” He said weakly.

“What's the book about?” Ricki asked, cocking her head.

“Someone you trusted betraying you.” Ornithos said bitterly. “Adder, that guy… you don't know what he's capable of.”

“What _did_ he do to you, anyway?” Ren asked.

“He was the one who ordered my execution.”

Ren gaped at him, Ricki gasping softly, but there wasn't much else they could do when a loud boom shook the sky.

Ornithos’s eyes widened.

“They've followed us.”


	17. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The price for salvation is a steep one, but it's one anyone is willing to pay.

“We have to get out of here, then.” Ricki said, “Ren—”

“W-wait just a sec,” her pilot stammered, “World’s spinning a little bit.”

Ornithos clicked his tongue. “He's lost a lot of blood.” He got up, gently picking up Ren into his arms. “We have to get you somewhere safer.”

Ren groaned softly, his consciousness drifting. “How,” he slurred, wincing when his leg was jostled. Ricki hissed in pain as well. “Th-there's nowhere we can…”

“Hey, beautiful,” Ornithos hushed him. “When I said I'll save you, I mean it.”

Ricki smiled at them softly, and she hurried to the mouth of the cave to look outside. Her eyes widened to see water already making its way up the trail they walked, and she turned to see Ornithos had come up to stand behind her, Ren now unconscious in his arms.

“Damn it,” he frowned. “I knew we haven't reached the floodline yet.” He nodded at her. “We need to get to higher ground. The flood will reach us in this cave.”

Ricki nodded, and hurried outside, scouting ahead of Ornithos as he carefully carried Ren through the rain. She slicked back her hair as water continued to pour down on them in torrents, squinting at the distance.

“What does the floodline look like?” She yelled over the roar of the rain.

“It's pretty obvious, it's literally a line on the earth.” Ornithos yelled back, and the trudged on, as high above them, beyond the canopy of trees, they could hear fighter planes making their descent. Many more were still in the air.

Ricki bit her lip. “I’m not seeing it.”

“Let’s go higher up the mountain.”

They climbed further, until they made it to the farthest point on the trail, and still no sign of the floodline. Ricki looked up at Ornithos, panicked, and he, too, looked like he was starting to lose his cool.

“No floodline,” She said worriedly. “What does it mean if there’s no floodline?”

“This mountain gets submerged.” Ornithos said gravely.

Ricki’s eyes widened. They _couldn’t_ let the flood reach them. Ren’s leg was still freely bleeding, dark red now dripping from the jacket Ornithos had wrapped around it, and the pipe from Celyste’s machinery wasn’t holding on too well, either. It was also probably rusted, so that would put Ren’s injury at serious risk of infection.

She couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t let him die.

She had no other option.

“You any good as a pilot?” She suddenly yelled over the roar of the rain, and Ornithos shook water out of his eyes.

“Trying to insult me, Ricki?” He shot back. “Look, I may have let Ren do the main flying and I was copilot, but—”

“Have you ever flown a Carina AL-200?” She demanded, and he cocked his head.

“Fighter ship?” He ventured. “Not too familiar with Carinan ships.”

“Single passenger, civilian. Fastest commercially-sold ship in the market. I think it's got a medbay in it too.”

“Oh, that,” Ren slipped down his arms and Ornithos grit his teeth, mustering up strength to pull him up. “Yeah, I think I've flown one of those before. Got a medbay in the back, right behind the pilot?” He asked, and Ricki nodded. Ornithos paused for a moment, and shook his head. “ _Why_ are you asking me this? _Now_?”

“Don't freak out, okay?” Ricki warned him, and that was all the warning he was going to get, when his world plunged into darkness.

Ornithos gasped, a shout exploding on his exhale and he tightened his grip on Ren. He heard the groan in his ear and panic flooded his chest—and when his world stopped shaking, he realised he was sitting in a cockpit, familiar displays around him. His stomach sank.

“A Carina AL-200.” He breathed. He turned around, but he couldn't find Ricki. “Oh, my gods.”

“ _Get in the air, they've seen us!_ ” Ricki’s voice screamed at him, “ _Just hold on to Ren for now, we have to get into hyperspace_ now!”

Ornithos’s head was spinning, but now was not the time for questions. He adjusted Ren on his lap, and grabbed the controls. He yanked them back, lurching them upwards as he floored the acceleration. Ricki was screaming as he flew higher and higher, and the ship jolted suddenly.

“ _Laser fire_!”

Ornithos frantically searched the panel. “Where's the damn button for the shields?” He yelled, and he saw one that blinked orange. “That one?”

“ _Yes!_ ”

He punched it, and reassuring blue spread around them.

“Alright, Ricki, wherever you are, hang on. Jumping into hyperspace!”

He tapped familiar coordinates into the display, and slapped the switch for hyperspace jump.

In the hyperspace tunnel, Ornithos sat stiffly in his seat, panting heavily. “What… just happened.” His tone was flat, more of a sigh of relief rather than a question.

He jumped at a hiss behind him, and he saw the medbay stretcher making its way to him. He half expected Ricki to be the one pushing it, but he saw it running along a set of tracks by itself.

“ _Set Ren down here._ ” Ricki told him, and shakily, Ornithos set Ren down on the stretcher, before watching it move back into the medbay. When the doors slid shut, he turned his attention back to the controls, already noting that they had strayed a few degrees off course.

He gripped the joysticks and set them back on the right track along the hyperspace tunnel, before taking a deep breath.

“Okay. Tell it to me straight, Ricki. What the hell happened back there? Is Ren going to be okay?”

“ _Yeah, he'll be alright. I think. I've put him in the medtank._ ” Ricki replied. “ _As for what just happened, um… I'm sorry Ren and I hid this from you, but I'm really a Living Ship._ ”

Ornithos took a shaky breath.

“Lemme guess. You must be that Stella Aurum on the news.”

“ _... Yeah._ ”

“Hey, Rickster. I don't believe it. The news, I mean.”

Ricki fell silent, and Ornithos smiled down at her panel, as if it was her he was looking at. “You’re such a good kid. You won’t even hurt a fly.” He said, “I’m guessing that dead Living Ship—uh, Stella Caduca? Went by Ian.”

“ _Yes, he did._ ”

“I’ve seen the way you look when you talk about him.” Ornithos squeezed her controls, his expression tightening as he felt his eyes burn with emotion. “Like a… sibling who lost a brother.”

“ _I…_ ”

“In a way,” Ornithos sniffed, “You remind me of…”

He paused, and he shook his head.

“Nevermind. The point is, kid, I _know_ you’re innocent. I know Ren’s a good guy; and I know he loves you very much to have gone with you.” He smiled sadly. “And I respect that. I do believe that family is a bond that’s not easily broken, Ricki, and I know what you’re doing—looking for Neverwhere—is because you love this Ian kid very much, right?”

“ _I do._ ” She said softly. “ _He’s… he was like family to me. All the Living Ships were. I want to find him again. Tell him I’m sorry, and bring him back._ ”

“Sounds like a solid plan.” Ornithos nodded. “So, we have to get that astrochart from Adder, first priority. There’s a high chance that he’s gonna destroy it, so we have to—”

“ _Um, Ornithos,_ ” Ricki said timidly.

“I know a place that will let us kill two birds with one stone,” He pressed. “It’ll be risky, though.” Ornithos sighed, leaning back into his seat. “We’re heading right into Da’an Pas.”

Stiff silence answered him, and he sighed deeply. “Or we can go to somewhere safer. I guess. The astrochart can wait.” He bit his lip. “Are you okay with that?”

“ _Yes, please._ ” Ricki gingerly replied. “ _As much as I want to get to Neverwhere… without Ren, I…_ ”

“I know what you mean.” He smiled softly down at her display. “I'll go head to a civilian planet in the nearest system, and there’s a hospital and some friends there I know that can get us sorted out. Okay?”

“ _Yes._ ” Ricki said.

“Awesome.” Ornithos nodded. “Can you get me the coordinates to the Felippus system? We’re going to Bulac.”

“ _It’s on the display._ ”

The redhead hummed, nodding, as he copied the coordinates onto the hyperspace jump module, when she spoke again.

“ _Ornithos?_ ”

“Yeah, kid?”

“ _Thank you. Truly._ ” She said shakily, and Ornithos couldn’t help the fond smile on his face. “ _I’m really, really thankful we met you._ ”

“Me too, kid.” He nodded, “Me too.”

* * *

Bulac was a desert planet in the solar side of the habitable zone of the Felippus system. As Ricki and Ornithos made their descent, she gaped at the wide, white cotton fields sprawling out across the land beneath them.

“Beautiful, isn't it, kid?”

“ _… Yeah._ ” Ricki breathed. “ _It's like the planet is white_!”

“Kinda is.” Ornithos shrugged. “We’re heading into Phium City, though it kinda looks more like a town, with how tiny it is.” He gradually began to fly her lower, with the intention of landing on a sand dune. “There's a hospital there, Ronard Memorial Hospital. I have some friends in there that can help us out without landing us in the Fleet Garrison jail.”

“ _Oh, thank goodness._ ” Ricki sighed. “ _You have friends everywhere._ ”

“Comes with the job.” Ornithos grinned. “Lower the landing gears, kid. We’re here.”

Ornithos landed them on a sand dune right in front of the city’s entrance, where the hospital was mercifully right next to the gate leading into the city. Ornithos picked Ren up from the medtank Ricki put him in, and after he got off, she morphed back to her usual body.

Ornithos whistled. “Damn, if that isn't convenient.” He said approvingly. “Celyste was pretty hard to hide, but you, kid…” he laughed, “No one would even know you're here!”

Ricki flushed, laughing sheepishly.

“Man, all it would take is you and Ren, and the two of you can go anywhere in the galaxy.” Ornithos sighed, and Ricki nodded.

“I guess.” She said. “Though eventually I should learn how to fly myself.”

Ornithos paused, and looked down at her.

“I… I know that one day, I won’t have Ren as my pilot anymore.” She said weakly, and he let her curl her hand in his wet trench coat. “But until that day comes, I… I want him to stay with me. Even if I knew how to fly myself.”

“I’m sure he’ll want to.” Ornithos told her gently, and she looked up to see him smiling at her. “C’mon, kid. Let’s head into the hospital and get Ren admitted before we dry ourselves off.”

* * *

“Thanks, Eliz. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Let your newest boyfriend die, that’s what.”

Ricki looked up from where she sat next to Ren, asleep and finally tended to on his bed, now newly-bathed and in a new, thankfully dry and warm change of clothes, to watch Ornithos—similarly dry and clean—talking to the frowning doctor as she crossed her thin arms.

“Hey, don’t be so frank.” Ornithos pouted at her, but she simply rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Minos,” She waved a finger at his face, “Be grateful Phium isn’t a major city, or it’s the Fleet Garrison for you!” Behind her, her leathery wings clapped in emphasis.

Dr. Eliz Voger reminded her of Danajis, though instead of being a graceful butterfly, she was a hardy beetle. It suited her, but it made Ricki miss the other Living Ships back on the Fleet Garrison.

Were they all worried about her? How were they doing?

“Aww, I know you won’t let me get caught.” Ornithos winked at her, and she laughed dryly.

“Of course I wouldn’t.” She replied. “Once a Minos crew, _always_ a Minos crew.”

Ornithos gave her a wink, and Ricki gaped at her. The Coccinelle woman nodded at them both, and excused herself from the room.

“She was… your crew member?” Ricki asked when the door shut, and Ornithos grinned at her as he settled down on an armchair across her.

“Yep.” He replied, “The twins back on Ingal too. We all parted ways some time ago, but Eliz quit a little earlier to come home because she missed it.” He said, and Ricki sobered up.

“Home.” She sighed. “I… I miss the Fleet Garrison.”

Ornithos gave her a sad smile. “Not gonna lie—I kinda miss Da’an Pas too.”

“Well, we’ll be heading there soon.” She said. “Are you excited?”

“Can’t say I’m not.” Ornithos chuckled. “But I’m just dreading seeing Adder again.”

“Maybe we can get the astrochart without meeting him.” Ricki said. “Maybe we can just sneak in there and steal it.”

Ornithos laughed in response, shaking his head fondly. “Kid, I’m starting to rub off on you, and I can understand now why Ren doesn’t like the idea of it.” Ricki flushed, but he waved her off. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over it eventually; I can face the kid, no problem.”

She nodded uneasily. “So, um… how about you? Why do you want to go to Neverwhere?”

Ornithos blinked at her in alarm, but she shrugged. “Ren and I want to bring Ian back. How about you?”

“I…” He looked down at his hands. “I want to set things back to the way they were.” He said. “A long time ago, kid, I was as happy as you were with Ian. I had a family, I had a future I looked forward to.”

Ricki deflated. “But then Prince Adder…”

Ornithos’s expression tightened. “I don’t know why he would do something like that.” He wrapped his arms around himself, and he sighed deeply. “I trusted him, and then he…” He shuddered.

Ricki’s eyes softened. “Ornithos…”

“It hurt, you know.” He said quietly. “Pasian executions were brutal. They would take a traditional blade and hack your wings off without anaesthetic. And then they’d throw you off the colony and into the gas giant core.” Ricki shivered, and he smiled at her apologetically. “But that wasn’t what hurt the most.”

“It was knowing Prince Adder betrayed you.” Ricki said sadly, and he nodded.

“Vivere taunted me about it as she cut my wings off. She called me a fool for trusting anyone with Eptilian blood.” Ornithos said, leaning back in his seat. “Hey, did you know? Adder, his mother Jasande and his uncle have Eptilian blood in them, too.” Ricki blinked at him.

“Eptilian?” She asked, looking down at Ren. “The ones living in the Velian system? Underground of Earth?”

“Yep, those exactly.” Ornithos nodded. “I know the Pterii descended from the Eptilians, so it wasn’t that far a stretch to find Pterii that were more Eptil than the modern Pterii. Adder took after his mother, more than his father. It’s why the court didn’t like them as much.”

Ricki looked down at the sheets. “Pasian politics are complicated.”

Ornithos laughed humorlessly. “Tell me about it.” He agreed. “But his father and his brother loved them, all the same.” He clenched his fist. “He owed so much to them.”

Ricki peered at him. “The old crown prince…” She frowned. “Why can’t I find his name on records anymore?”

“Well, he was executed.” Ornithos replied. “He was accused of killing his father, an unforgivable crime in Pasian law. The Regent—Kalos—oversaw his trial, but Adder ordered him executed.”

Ricki’s blood ran cold. “But he’s his own brother!”

Ornithos smiled at her dryly. “Like I said. You don’t know what he’s capable of. After his execution, Kalos and the priestesses of the most influential sect of Pasian religion declared his name cursed. No one’s said or read it for years now. They erased him from history.”

She deflated. “I… had no idea.”

“Adder had his brother’s friends hunted down, too.” Ornithos rubbed his arm. “That’s why my crew is all over the place.”

Her eyes widened. “You were his friend too.”

Ornithos simply smiled at her. “Now you know why I wanna go to Neverwhere.”

Ricki deflated. “You want to set things back to the way they were.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry about everything, Ornithos.”

“It’s not your fault.” He shrugged. “So, that’s why we need that astrochart. I know Neverwhere is a place; and that astrochart is gonna get us there.”

Ricki nodded determinedly. “Right.” She said, “But for now, let’s wait for Ren to get better.”

Ornithos nodded. “Take a rest for now, kid.” He said. “You’ll need it.”

She gave him a smile, and settled down to sleep next to Ren. Ornithos watched her fall asleep, before he got up, picking up the phone he had Eliz bring into the room, and dialled a number.

“Hey, yo, Camlus? Yeah, it’s me, Minos.” He said, “Listen, remember that favour you owed me a while back? I’m calling to ask for it.”

He paused to laugh, shaking his head.

“No, man, I’m not going to join your team. Listen, do you still have an extra ship? I’m going to need one.”

He paused again to listen to the reply.

“Neat. I’m on Bulac right now, crashing with Eliz, you remember her.” He said. “Yeah, yeah. How long until it arrives?” He paused to listen, and he nodded. “The day after tomorrow, afternoon, local time, it’ll be here? Nice.” He turned to look at Ricki and Ren, asleep together on the bed. “Thanks, dude. I’ll be okay by myself. Yep, still no crew,” he made his way over to the two of them, smiling sadly. “But I’ll be fine. Bye, now.”

He hung up, looking down at the Living Ship and her pilot, and he sighed.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll be fine.” He said, but he knew he wouldn’t be.

He settled down on the armchair again, and fell asleep.


	18. Adult Businesses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true leader does whatever he can to aid his nation.
> 
> By any means necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: underaged dubcon at the end of the chapter.

Adder looked down at his copy of _A Dagger to the Back, Poison in the Blade_ , scowling as he held a fire opal dagger with a silver hilt, his small hand perfectly fitting in the grooves of the silver viper that snaked around three sapphires. Now comfortably out of the loose chiton he had worn the night before he seduced Romerus and in severe Eptilian clothing that was laced up to his chin and wrists, he looked even more closed off, as he usually was.

“Wasn’t that your uncle’s birthday present to you last year?” Vesta asked him as he stalked towards the centre table, watching him scowl at the hardbound tome in his hand.

“Yes.” He replied flatly, setting it down on the table.

“What are you going to—”

He opened it up to the first page, and dug his dagger into the papers. Vesta fell silent, eyes wide as he carved out a crude rectangular trench in the papers. When he deemed himself done, he tore the ruined papers in the middle out and set down his dagger, still frowning as he put the datachip with the Velian system’s astrochart inside it before slamming the book shut.

Vesta sighed, more tired than anything. “Not too fond of that book, are you?” She asked, picking up the papers on the table to get rid of them in the fireplace.

“It’s distasteful.” Adder scowled, “Classic this, classic that, it’s all just some fool’s attempt at sounding interesting.” He shoved the book back into his bookshelf. “Killing your own brother is _despicable_. Uncle’s distastefulness is really grinding my patience thin.”

“Your Highness—” Vesta began, but the door suddenly opened, revealing a scowling, green-eyed and winged Pterii man. Vesta straightened up, giving him a salute. “Your Excellency.”

Kalos eyed her, his sharp, reptile-like face, all angles and no softness, tightening to a frown, before giving her a dismissive wave. “You are dismissed, Captain Vesta. Leave us.”

Vesta eyed Adder, who simply cocked his head at her, a silent command to listen in, and she nodded, heading out the door and shutting it behind her.

The green-winged man opened his mouth to speak, when Adder interrupted him.

“Knocking usually is done as a polite gesture, though I suppose you'd overlook something like that, Uncle.” He didn’t even look at him, backing away from the bookshelf to stand at the window, back to his uncle to deny him even the decency of eye contact.

“Charming, as always.” Kalos scowled. “Have you any semblance to your brother?”

Adder hid his involuntary flinch at the mention of his brother. It’d been seven years, and yet still, he acted like this. He shook his head to clear it, and flicked imaginary dust off his shoulder. “Apparently not.” He replied, finally turning to look at him with a smarmy smirk on his lips. “Unfortunately, for both you and I.”

Kalos’s eyes narrowed at his nephew. “You’re being quite the difficult little brat today.” He hissed, before viciously tossing a data pad at the roundtable in the middle of the sitting room. It collided with a bowl of fruit, making it swing precariously to make a small, round red fruit roll out from its edge.

Neither nephew nor uncle paid attention to it.

“What were you doing at Xandria?” The older man demanded.

Adder simply peered at him boredly, and Kalos’s expression tightened.

“You _will_ answer me, and honestly, you impertinent child.” He snapped.

The blond rolled his eyes, sighing melodramatically as made a show of reluctantly moving from the window to approach the table. He picked up the fruit as it rolled to a stop and bit into it slowly, and Kalos’s scowl deepened. Adder smiled sweetly at him after he swallowed, and finally spoke.

“A bit of light reading.”

“Astrocharts, boy.” There was a hint of a growl in Kalos’s voice. “You accessed astrocharts. There is a missing file in the archives.”

“It was missing when I got there.” Adder slid the data pad back towards him with two fingers, as if pushing away something disgusting. “I don't need to see something I already know of.”

“You went looking for it. Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps I missed the past?” Adder smirked. “As you know—treasure hunting had always been _his_ favourite pastime with me.”

“Another mention of your brother and you _will_ be arrested for treason.” Kalos snapped. “Annoying me would not be worth the risk.” Adder pursed his lips shut, but he was still smirking. “Don't wheedle your way out of this one, Adder. Tell me what I need to know. I am your _uncle_ , and you _will_ be honest with me.”

Adder’s smirk fell off his face at that, and leant back. “Honest? How _honest_ have _you_ been with _me_?”

“You—you _dare_ speak against your elder like that?”

“Oh, don't get too upset if I'm not as ready as you'd like me to be to set myself on fire to keep you warm.” Adder shot back. “Respect is earned, not inherited. _Passerine_.”

He spat the insult at him like a curse, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, and the man raised his hand to slap him—but he held himself back.

“Pot calling the kettle black, boy? You're not a real prince of Da’an Pas either. Son of a concubine.”

“Of whom became queen.” Adder replied evenly. “While you are still just Regent, and all you’re good for is sitting on a throne and looking pretty.” He snorted, “And even then you’re not good enough for one of those two things.”

“You little…”

Kalos’s hands balled into fists as he stared down Adder’s impassive face, but he eventually relented after a long moment of glaring at each other.

“Are we here for you to fling petty insults at me, _Uncle_ , or have you something of actual worth to tell me?”

Kalos scowled at him, before turning away from him. “There is someone I need you to meet.” He said, facing the door. “Mortis, come inside.”

The door opened and a beautiful lavender-haired woman stepped inside. She was curvy, her body an hourglass shape accented by a simple black dress, and she smiled at him darkly with cold wine red eyes. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though—it was her horns, pitch black and powerful-looking atop her head like a crown of its own. Adder gulped nervously, as she sidled up towards the table, her high heels clicking on the marble.

“Hello.” She greeted, her voice low and sultry, but Adder shivered. The pallor of her skin made her look dead, and her hands, slim and elegant, picked up his dagger on the table. “What a beautiful piece of craftsmanship this is.” She commented, “It looks awfully familiar.”

“Mortis.” Kalos scolded her, and the Bosian woman chuckled darkly, putting down the dagger.

“That is my name,” she nodded, but she didn’t take her eyes off Adder. “But hmm, I smell something naughty on you, pretty little prince.”

Adder’s eyes widened, as she reached towards him, and he felt the datachip of his copy of Dove’s program to hack Xandria drift out of his pocket. He watched her giggle softly, waving her hand around the chip to form a bubble around it, and almost instantaneously it rotted through, until it was just black junk sitting at the bottom of the bubble. He dropped the fruit he was holding in shock as she popped the bubble with the coy smack of her red-painted lips, and the remains of the datachip fell to the table.

He had heard of beings capable of amazing feats. There were only seven people alive—previously _eight_ —capable of doing things like that.

This woman was a _Living Ship_.

“Naughty boy.” Mortis tutted, smiling back at Kalos, who tutted and shook his head. She chuckled darkly, and turned back to Adder. She grabbed him by the chin, smirking at the scowl that crossed his face as she pulled his head closer. “Oh, but isn’t that part of the appeal? I can see why you’d think this plan would work, Senator Kalos.”

Adder jerked his head away from her. “What plan?” he demanded, but she simply smiled at him slowly.

“Mortis here will show you a thing or two about how adults do about with adult businesses.” Kalos replied dismissively, “You’re needed at an engagement at Rasten.”

“Adult business?” Adder felt dread crawling up his throat, but he carefully kept his voice steady. “What engagement at Rasten?”

“To be the leader that Da’an Pas needs, Adder, you have to be able to establish deals to gain resources for our empire.” Kalos strode forward to stand beside Mortis, who had crossed her arms. “I will have you secure an alliance with a planet in the Naal system.”

“Naal?” Adder echoed, “So it _is_ true. You _do_ dirty your hands with criminals.”

Kalos gave him a sharp smile. “And you, with your own agenda.”

Adder rolled his eyes.

Mortis chuckled. “A dirty uncle for his dirty little nephew. Who is it, really, who should be ashamed?”

Kalos glowered at her.

“I don’t think there is much I need to teach him,” Mortis snickered, “I’ve heard from places he’s already very good at using that pretty little face of his.”

Adder’s thoughts jumped back to the night before, and his heart began to race. Had Romerus… he couldn’t have.

“Disgusting.” Kalos frowned distastefully, facing away from his nephew like he was something he couldn’t bear looking at. “You and Mortis will leave immediately for Rasten. Do not make our guest wait on you.”

“We’re leaving _now_?” Adder forced himself to keep his tone in check. If he lost his cool now, he would lose the delicate game between him and his uncle.

“Of course.” Kalos stopped a few paces away from the door, also refusing to give his nephew the decency of eye contact. “The sooner the arrangements, the better.”

He left without hearing another word from Adder, and Mortis giggled.

“He’s not very good at this little game, is he.” She said. “He has no idea about Romerus.”

“My uncle is _mediocre_ , at best.” Adder scoffed. “You’ve _seen_ what he’s like.”

Mortis paused, and she chuckled darkly. “That, he is. _You_ , on the other hand…”

“How did you know about Romerus?” he glowered at her.

“Gossip.” Mortis smiled at him, pressing a finger to her chin daintily. “Surveillance footage. A horny guard, or two. Jealous underlings.”

Adder took a sharp breath. “Romerus was sold out to you.”

“By his own people, yes.” She nodded. “We’re not so different, you and I. We know how to use our… charms.”

“You’re disgusting.” He spat.

“And so are you.” She purred. “Come now, pretty prince. We can’t have Ronsha waiting.”

* * *

Mercifully Mortis let Adder bring Vesta and Linde with him, but she separated them from him the moment they entered the Pasian civilian carrier, locking them out of the room she and Adder stayed in on the ship. As they took off, Adder refused to talk to her, until she had grabbed his wing and bodily dragged him into the en suite bathroom, gleefully stripping him down and shoving him into the bath.

“Wh-what are you _doing_?” He demanded of her, but she held up a vial of oil, smiling coldly.

“What Kalos wants me to.” She told him simply, turning him around roughly to slam his face against the cold tile of the bathroom, her hand unforgiving and tight around his wrist as she pinned it to his back, pinning him against the wall. Adder felt dread crawling up his throat as he felt her hand run down his back between his wings as she hummed pleasantly. “I’m dolling you up, sugar.” She cooed, falsely sweet. “To get you ready for _adult affairs_.”

Adder wrenched his eyes shut, but he did not cry.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t absolutely _terrified_.

* * *

Rasten’s other nickname was Sin Planet, one of its many open cities, the capital, Luxi, was the largest by far. It was previously a desert planet, but after Pasian colonisation, it developed into cities spread across the deserts, renowned for both its mastery and diversity of the arts, and for its casinos and red light districts. Luxi had a mix of both, but its largest opera house, Aphros, was the most popular spot in the whole planet. It was a beautiful, humongous structure, glittering gold and lit up with red and yellow lights, it stood proudly as the symbol of Luxi’s artistic prowess.

Adder had loved coming there, as a child. His mother loved the opera, his brother never grew tired of the lights and glamour Luxi had to offer, and his father simply enjoyed the luxury of rest with his family.

Yet now, standing in a beautiful, fluttering translucent blue chiton, pinned closed only by a single sapphire brooch, he felt exposed. More than the cold wind of the air conditioning in the opera house, he felt fear chill his blood, burning him with the absolute _need_ to run away with every step he took after Mortis. Linde and Vesta followed after him silently, but he could see the concern marring their faces. He knew they wanted to run away with him as badly as he wanted to.

They passed by a floor-to-ceiling reflective panel, and Adder finally got a look at himself.

Mortis had painted his lips the same red as hers, drew sharp pitch black lines around the corner of his eyes, and brushed blush and eyeshadow on him by just the lightest tint.

If he hadn’t known himself, Adder could swear that he was looking at a prostitute passing off as an innocent young boy. It made his skin crawl.

“Your Highness.” an attendant, a timid brown-winged Pterii approached them, bowing to him lowly before turning to Mortis. “Milady. Lord Ronsha is already waiting for you.”

“Oh, we’re terribly sorry.” Mortis said, too cheerfully. “His Highness wasn’t being very cooperative earlier.”

“He does not mind, surely.” The attendant nodded, “This way, please.”

“Ah, not me.” Mortis held her hand up, before gesturing at Adder. “His Highness Prince Adder himself will meet Lord Ronsha.”

Adder stiffened up at the mention of his name, but the attendant didn’t notice. Mortis did, and she smirked at him. He glowered at her, but he huffed, pushing past her to follow after the attendant. They headed into an elevator, Linde and Vesta at their heels, and when the doors slid shut behind them, the attendant cleared her throat.

“I-if I may, Your Highness?” she asked, and Adder simply looked at her, huffing in response. She jumped a little, before stammering, “Y-you’re very… beautiful.” She sheepishly admitted. “Your wings really are pure white, a-and you look a lot like Queen Jasande.”

Adder smiled at her dryly. “Thank you.” He bit out, and she timidly dropped their conversation.

The elevator dinged their arrival, and she led the three of them towards the private balconies. Adder could already hear the opera beginning, the prima soprano’s voice like daggers straight into his chest the further they walked through the corridors. The attendant stopped at a door with a golden 15 on it, smiling. “Here he is.” she said, opening it for him.

Adder shared one last look at Linde and Vesta, his guards only helpless to look on, he stepped through the threshold, steeling himself as the attendant shut the door behind him.

“Lord Ronsha.”

It was a miracle his voice hadn’t the slightest quiver in it.

An Asuran man was seated on one of two comfortable-looking armchairs, leg crossed over the other, one of his hands holding a goblet of wine loosely between pudgy fingers. He looked over his shoulder at him, and the annoyance on his face immediately disappeared at the sight of him.

The way his eyes raked over Adder’s body made him shiver in disgust.

“Forgive our delay.” He said, forcing himself to walk forward to sit next to the man on the other armchair, crossing his own leg and hiding his frown behind his hand at the way the chiton rode up to expose his thigh. Ronsha drank up the sight greedily with his eyes. “Air traffic. You know how messy it is in Rasten.”

“Yeah, I bet.” The man replied, “So, you must be Prince Adder.” He said freely, “I came here under the assumption I’d be talking to Kalos’s woman Mortis, but I can’t say I’m complaining.”

Adder scowled. “I’m… _flattered_.” He drawled. “So what is it that you are offering to the Pasian empire in this exchange?”

Ronsha downed the rest of his goblet, belching on his exhale, and Adder inched away from him, disgusted. “Hah, sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic. “But okay. Asura’s offering its full army in turn for free shipment routes through the Pasian empire.”

Adder’s eyes narrowed at him. This sounded too… easy. There was more to it.

“What sort of shipments?” He demanded.

Ronsha grinned at him. “ _Every_ kind.”

The implications clicked uncomfortably easily. Smuggled goods. Contrabands. Slaves.

His hand balled into a fist. Kalos would let that happen within the Pasian system? Criminals running loose all over the place, just stealing people to sell as slaves legally?

Romerus was right about Kalos destroying this empire. Adder knew, he just _knew_ , this entire time, but trapped on the capital colony, he only had the news to tell him what direction the rest of the empire was heading.

And it was heading down a dark, dangerous path. His brother’s heart would simply _break_ if he heard about what was happening to his beloved empire.

“Incredible.” Adder flatly stated, “What _honourable_ intentions my uncle has.”

“I know, right?” Ronsha laughed, clearly having missed the point. “Here, have some, pretty little thing. You need to relax.”

He poured Adder a thin, elegant glass of wine, as below them, the prima soprano’s voice spiked again, her voice cutting off in her performance as her character was stolen off by the antagonist.

Adder eyed him warily, but the threat of failure loomed over his head.

He thought back to the moments Mortis held him tightly against the wall, as he squirmed in her grip, her fingers intruding uncomfortably—almost _painfully_ into him. He had his hands pressed firmly to his mouth, his teeth digging into his skin as he tried not to cry out in pain.

“ _Fail to secure that alliance, little darling,_ ” she had growled into his ear, pressing him so hard he couldn’t breathe. “ _And I’ll break your little Romerus story to your dear uncle, and all your plans on taking back Da’an Pas can say goodbye._ ”

He _needed_ to take his brother’s kingdom back for him.

He had promised himself long, long ago that he would find justice for his brother’s execution, and he would _never_ let the bastard who had him killed sit on the throne meant for him.

_By any means necessary._

Adder took the glass of wine from Ronsha, and downed it, shaking as he felt the wine burn his throat, the fire of both the wine and his fear tearing him apart inside as Ronsha hooted. He exhaled, panting, as he finished, before he tossed the glass aside, crystal smashing against the marble of the floor.

“Who are we fooling, Ronsha?” He said, getting up and trying not to shake as he stood closer to the man, almost straddling him. “We’re not here to talk about politics.”

Ronsha’s grin widened into a predatory smirk, and he held Adder’s waist in a vice-like grip.

“ _Now_ we’re talking.” he growled, pulling Adder close to himself, forcing him to straddle him completely.

“Perhaps there may be other ways to talk about treaties.” He forced his voice into a purr, and he reached up to unfasten the one brooch holding his chiton together. Slowly he toyed with it, but Ronsha grabbed his hand and tore the brooch off, tearing the silk of his chiton. He laughed, heady and fake, as Ronsha pulled off his clothes. “Excited, milord?”

“Well, when you’ve got a gorgeous slut on your lap, who wouldn’t be?” Ronsha smirked.

Adder shut his eyes as Ronsha began to lap at his neck.

If the gods were merciful, he thought, as Ronsha’s hands roamed his crawling skin, perhaps they would hide this from his brother in heaven.

(But they were not, he knew, and his brother’s disappointment would be the price he would pay.)


	19. A Good Man Goes To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Khimet Idiritri was a good man. 
> 
> But good men make such good pawns.

“ _It's been more than a week, Met. You haven't slept a proper night. Not once_.”

If there was one thing she hated, it was sounding like a broken record, and Met knew it. Despite all that, Aphis didn’t sound angry or irritated—far from it, and in the middle of the night in the Fleet Garrison, Met didn’t feel as alone as he was, even with Aphis hundreds of lightyears away on Nestra Tigra.

Still, he had to do this. He could apologise to her later.

“I’m fine.” He lied, and Aphis’s expression scrunched up in concern.

“ _No, you’re not. You haven’t gone on any missions these past few days, you’re sleeping at irregular hours, and—Met, don’t ignore me._ ”

“I’m not.”

Aphis sighed exasperatedly. “ _Please, Met. Just get some rest. The Fleet will find Ren and Aurum eventually._ ”

Aurum and Ren. They were the reason he couldn’t sleep at night.

Met sighed heavily, leaning back in his seat as he threw an arm over his eyes. “That’s the _thing_ , Aphis, I don’t _want_ them to be found, but I want to see them again.”

Only heaven knew how badly he wanted to make sure they were safe. How he wanted to throw away all he knew about following the Garrison’s orders and to help them run far, far away from anyone who would dare hurt them for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“ _Me too, Met._ ” Aphis sighed, her breath a crackle of white noise across the planets. “ _But you can’t destroy yourself while worrying about them._ ”

She had a point.

Met groaned. “I just… I’m going _crazy_ , trying to find proof of Aurum’s innocence, but it’s like the Garrison’s not _cooperating_.” He gave his computer’s screen a smack to its side, and Aphis winced.

“ _Look, it’s late where you are. Just get some rest, okay?_ ”

“I can’t.” He admitted, sighing deeply, hanging his head. “I lie down in bed every night thinking of Ren and Aurum and where they could be right now, and I can’t stop worrying about them. Are they safe? Are they together? What’s happening to them right now?”

Aphis rubbed her arm, looking sheepish. “ _Me too, buddy._ ” She said. “ _But you have to take care of yourself too. Don’t forget, they’ve still got each other. You’ve only got yourself._ ” She paused, before adding tartly, “ _And me, when I get back to the Garrison from Nestra Tigra._ ”

Met looked at her witheringly, but he tried to give her a smile. Aphis smiled back at him and patted her camera, as if to pat him instead.

“ _Look, if you’re so desperate, maybe you should go ask the Living Ships about it in the morning? Maybe they know a thing or two about it._ ”

Met perked up at that. “Stella Fulgore has her workshop right across the dorm.” He said, and Aphis’s expression fell.

“ _Met, it’s 3:20 in the morning there!_ ” She gasped, but she could only watch as Met hurried to get up, pulling on his uniform jacket. “ _Khimet Idiritri!_ ” she scolded, but he only grinned at her.

“Someone’s gotta find out the truth, Aphis.” He said, “Talk to you again real soon.”

He cut off her transmission before she could protest, and he hurried out of his dorm room.

* * *

Dove jumped at the sound of her buzzer—terrible and jarring, as it was when Adder visited, and she swore under her breath. She’d forgotten to fix it in her rage at the rude little brat of a prince, but she reluctantly got up from where she was working to answer the door.

She found a sheepishly smiling Formican at the door, and she squinted at him suspiciously, before realisation clicked in her mind.

“Captain Khimet Idiritri.” She said, only barely hearing the weak “just Met will do, ma’am”, and he nodded. “What’re…” She looked around him, and found no one with him. Dove jerked her head. “In.”

He sheepishly followed her, gaping at her workshop as he entered, as any cadet did whenever they stepped inside. She cleared her throat, picking up a can of an energy drink, and he jumped, looking at her in surprise before straightening up.

“Um, Stella Fulgore, I wanted to talk to you about what happened that night Stella Caduca died.” Met stiffly said, feeling a weight simply fly off his chest as the words tumbled out of his mouth. The blonde girl raised a thick eyebrow at him, her left ear cocking to the side. She peered at him over her large, circular glasses, before taking a sip of her energy drink.

“It’s 3:27 in the morning, Captain Met.” She said, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” She sat down on her rolling chair to take a chip from the bowl next to her workspace, chewing slowly as she studied him.

“I… couldn’t sleep.” He sheepishly admitted, “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be up this early, too.”

She snorted, slipping another chip into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “I never sleep.” She replied, and his expression softened at her. “No, it’s not like _your_ kind of lack of sleep. I just tinker with a lot of stuff. I sleep at irregular times, mostly to piss Orent off.” She rolled her chair across the room, whizzing past Met to let him get a whiff of the chip flavour she was eating—cheese.

His stomach reminded him—painfully—of the last time he ate.

Dove’s ears flickered at the sound of his stomach, and she gave him a lopsided grin.

“C’mon.” She jerked her head at another unopened bag of chips on the table he stood next to. “Screw eating schedules, right?”

“Uh.” Met replied intelligently, but he reached for the smallest bag, easily tearing it open to start eating.

Dove shrugged, and came to a stop to a large processing terminal, peering at one of the many screens there with squinted eyes. “So, Captain. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, huh.” She said, and Met realised she’d somehow managed a scan on him. Sheepishly, he nodded, obediently taking a seat when she pointed at one of the few scattered rolling chairs in the workshop. “Hormones, blood pressure…” She muttered, turning to look at him as she shook her head. “Rough time for you, huh? It was your friend who lost his LS, right? Captain Ren Ishigaki?”

Met deflated, and nodded. “Yes. He’s my friend.”

“Present tense, huh?” There was a small smile on her lips. “You think he’s still alive?”

“Y-yes, Ma’am.” He nodded stiffly. “I… I _know_ for a fact he wouldn’t let himself die just like that. Not when there's still the truth to reveal.”

“You don't think Aurum killed Ian, do you?”

“Do _you_?” He shot back. “Ma'am.”

She gave him a slow smile at the tacked-on show of respect. She sighed deeply and leant back in her chair, toying with the end of her tail absently. “Captain Met, I'll make you a deal. If you stop calling me ‘ma'am’, I'll stop calling you Captain. Sounds good?”

“I don't see a catch for you answering my question.”

“Because you don't need one.” She crossed her legs and turned back to her terminal. “I don’t think she killed him either,” she continued, fiddling with the keys and entering nonsense, useless commands into the terminal just to keep herself busy. “Not for some silly reason like she's an LS like me or whatever, but because it would have been impossible.”

“Impossible how?” Met asked, and she slowed down in her absentminded typing.

“You couldn’t figure that out yourself?” She asked, looking at him witheringly over her shoulder, and Met shook his head. Dove scoffed, rolling her eyes and turned back to her terminal to look at past logs on the Fleet Garrison. “Fine.

That night, there was a powerful pulse that took out all the Living Ships—and even equipment—for a pretty long while.” She huffed in annoyance. “Took _me_ out for a good thirty minutes. It’d been ages since the last time I've saw Orent so worried.”

“I knew it.” Met’s hand balled into a fist. “Aurum couldn't have killed him.”

“The question now is—”

“ _Who_ did?”

Andrew’s voice made the two of them freeze, and Dove frowned at him as he carefully entered the room, ducking low to avoid getting his antlers caught in the doorway. Met gave him a salute, one he replied with a smile and a dismissive wave. Met’s arm shot down.

“Andy.” Dove curtly said. “The hell is up with all these people showing up at my workshop whenever they damn well pleased?”

“Dove.” Andrew replied with a patient smile. “Captain Idiritri. I knew you had suspicions. Captain Ishigaki was a good friend of yours.”

“Yes, sir.” Met nodded. “I want to find the truth about the whole thing. I knew Aurum, and I know how close she was to Ian. There was no way she would have any motive to kill him.”

“That, and we've already established it's impossible for her to have done it.” Dove added. “You got knocked out too, right, Andy?”

Andrew nodded. “For five minutes, I was unconscious in my apartments. Though, Dove here had it worse—”

“He's heard it before,” Dove drawled. “No need to keep reminding people.”

Andrew chuckled at her. “Captain. Are you here to search for answers?”

Met nodded. “Please, Stella Prima. If there's anything you know.”

“I know little of what happened during that night, forgive me.” Andrew lowered his head. “However, what happened afterward was a little more than simply unsettling.”

Dove paused at that. “... Now that you mention it, Orent was being worse than usual back then.”

“How so?” Met cocked his head, and the only he answer he got from Dove was a shrug. He sighed exasperatedly, and Andrew chuckled, patting his arm to reassure him.

“Dove, my dear, please.” He said, and she rolled her eyes.

“He and a few of the officials had a meeting right after the murder. You know how Captain Ishigaki isn't very popular with the higher ups, they were pretty happy something like this happened to his LS.”

Met’s hands balled into fists.

“How _dare_ they.”

“Captain, please.” The crease in Andrew’s forehead made him look more disappointed than angry. “Captain Ishigaki is a good man. I've seen the way he took care of Aurum, as have you.” He sighed. “She loves him like a child loves her father.”

“I’m convinced the trial’s rigged,” Dove said, waving a chip in her hand. “The weapon was Pasian, sure, but it didn’t have Ian’s prints on it. Aurum’s prints on it showed up _on top_ of the blood, so that means—”

“The knife was put there in her hand after Ian was killed.” Met breathed, and Dove shrugged.

“Someone’s been watching crime shows.” She remarked dryly. Andrew tutted at her.

“Well, if anything, I am rather certain that—”

The door to Dove’s workshop hissed open again, and Dove scowled. “Why are so many people just walking into my—”

“Dove.” Orent sternly said, stepping inside, “Why aren’t you in bed?” He paused when his eyes landed on Andrew, and then on Met, and his exasperated expression melted into one of anger. “Captain Idiritri.”

Met’s expression tightened. “General Orent.”

“So, now robbed of your own Living Ship, you’ve gone to look for another?” Orent deadpanned, though with just a little more expression he might as well have been snarling. “Aiming to be a no-good ship stealer, just like that human _friend_ of yours?”

Anger flared in Met’s blood, and he surged forward to punch him, only for Andrew to hold him back.

“Captain, please.” He said mildly, “Not here.”

Orent smirked at him, but Andrew shot him a disapproving look.

“It is late, my friend.” Andrew pressed, turning back to look at Met. “We should leave.”

“Oh, yes, please do.” Orent grinned, but that earned him a scratch from a frowning Dove. He hissed, but before he could say anything, she had already run off into the back of the workshop. “Stella Prima.” He curtly addressed Andrew, and the Rangiferan only nodded at him, before he hurried after Dove, not sparing Met a glance.

“Captain Idiritri,” Andrew gently said, his hand on Met’s back even gentler as he led him outside. “I trust you will find the right evidence to prove Aurum’s innocence and bring her and Captain Ishigaki back home.”

Met nodded determinedly. “I swear I will.”

He gave Andrew one last salute, before hurrying back to his dorm room in time to hear his phone beginning to ring. He quickly answered it, jumping when he heard Maclaine’s voice on the other side.

“ _Captain Met? It is a good coincidence you are awake._ ”

“Only miraculously,” He replied dryly, frowning. “What is wrong, ma’am?”

“ _You are needed at the Garrison docking bay hangar 3 in ten minutes._ ”

Met’s eyes widened. “M-ma’am, I—”

“ _Hurry, Captain. This is an emergency._ ”

At the mention of those four words, Met had bolted out of his apartment to get on his bike to speed towards the Fleet Garrison proper.

* * *

He managed to make it there to the hangar in time, barely panting as he ran up to Maclaine standing in front of a Pasian civilian carrier, arms akimbo and expression severe as supplies were carried in and out of the storage space the ship had.

“M-ma’am.” He gave her a salute, and she returned it with one of her own. “What’s the emergency?”

“It has come to recent attention that the Pasian Civil Wars apparently have reached even the capital, Da’an Pas.” She told him, “The Regent, Galactic Senate President Kalos himself is here to ask the Fleet Garrison to deliver to Da’an Pas a guard to ensure the life of his nephew, the only heir to the Pasian throne.”

Met gaped at her. “You’re sending me on guard duty.”

She looked down at him icily. “This is the only assignment freed up so far that does not involve Stella Aurum or your kidnapped friend.” She said flatly. “I hate having brilliant officers stagnate, even if they were men.”

Met’s expression dropped. “Your remarks aren’t helping, either,” he wanted to say, but he settled with a stiff nod and a salute. “Understood, ma’am.” Was what he ended up saying.

“Good.” She nodded sagely, as the green-winged Pterii approached them, a wide smile on his face. She nodded curtly at him as he came closer. “Your Excellency.” She greeted, warmth and sincerity absent in her tone. She must have hated him as much as Met did.

“General Maclaine,” He greeted her boisterously, taking her hand to shake it, even if she had not offered. “Again, thank you for your prompt response on such a short notice!” He looked at Met, and he grinned wider. “And oh, my. The valedictorian of the latest batch, Class Polaris.” He said, offering his hand for Met to shake. “Captain Khimet Idiritri, am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.” He stiffly replied, shaking his hand only once, before quickly pulling away. “I will be the guard the Fleet will have sent to Da’an Pas.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Kalos nodded. “My boy, I know you will do a splendid job. Your internship days were quite satisfactory, after all.” He turned to look at Maclaine. “He's guarded me before, with a friend of his,” at that his lips curled up into a pleased little smirk, and Met glowered at him, but did little else. “I can trust my nephew’s life to him.”

“Very well.” Maclaine nodded. “Captain Idiritri is one of the cream of the crop of the Fleet, Your Excellency. We, through him, will guarantee your nephew’s safety.”

“Good, good.” Kalos nodded, “Are you ready to depart now, Captain? I'm on a rather tight schedule; and I have to see to picking my nephew up personally from Rasten.”

Met wondered what the young prince, barely 16 and _far_ below the legal age of his empire was doing alone at a planet nicknamed Sin Planet.

“I am, sir.” He replied, giving him a salute. Kalos beamed.

“Good.” He said again. “Come, now. We have to hurry.”

Kalos swept into the carrier, and Met turned to look at Maclaine.

“Captain, I trust you will do the right thing.” She said, and Met cocked his head at her. “Da’an Pas and that Senator Kalos is rife with corruption right now, as I'm sure you know.” He nodded. “The Civil War is a looming threat not only to their empire but the Galactic Senate. I want you to make sure decisions and ally with the right people.”

Anxiety turned his gut. So _that_ was why Maclaine called him. She didn't trust anyone in the higher circles of the Fleet.

“What about Senator Kalos?” He asked. Her expression tightened.

“The _right_ people, Captain.”

That was as close to a ‘no’ as they could safely get.

“Understood, ma'am.” He gave her a salute. “I'll be off now.”

“Stay safe.” She replied with her own salute, and Met followed after Kalos into the carrier.

* * *

“Luxi, the City of Dreams.” Kalos sighed deeply as they got off the ship, Met at his heels as they walked towards a beautiful opera house. Met had only _heard_ of Luxi, seen pictures of the Aphros Opera House, but actually seeing it made his jaw drop in awe. Kalos chuckled. “Is this your first time here, Captain?” He asked, letting Met walk beside him.

“U-uh, yes, sir.” Met stammered, and he and Kalos walked into the opera house, the Pasian Royal Guard at their heels. He eyed the tallest Pasian in the squadron behind them—yellow-winged with a severe expression on her face, Commander Vivere reminded Met of Maclaine, but there was _something_ about her that made him feel uneasy. She met his eye, and he jumped slightly, but she simply nodded at him curtly before looking straight ahead.

Beside him, Kalos laughed. “Ah, don't worry too much about Vivere.” He said. “She's like a well-oiled machine that's… wound just a little too tight.”’

Met laughed nervously. “I, uh. See.”

“Now, Captain, I have something important to discuss with you.” Kalos suddenly turned serious. “My nephew is a little… difficult.”

Met cocked his head at him.

“He's like a snake. You need to be careful, Captain, or he _will_ use you. He's wily and sly, and I know he has a hidden agenda of his own.” Kalos looked dead serious, but Met couldn't wrap his head around what he was saying.

A 15-year old? Wily and manipulative? Ridiculous.

“I need you to report to me _everything_ he does. If he meets with anyone, let me know who. What does he discuss with his guards.”

Met felt his skin crawl. It was creepy, what Kalos wanted him to do, and Met finally understood what Maclaine wanted him to do.

She wanted him to betray Kalos.

Well—after he meets Prince Adder, he would make the decision.

Met simply nodded instead, and that seemed to satisfy Kalos.

They headed upstairs into the private balconies, and Kalos led him to a door with a golden 16 on it.

“He should be here.” Kalos nodded. “I've to meet with an acquaintance in room 15, though, so do introduce yourself to him while we chat.”

Met nodded, swallowing nervously, and he knocked on the door politely as Kalos went right into room 15. There was shuffling behind the door, before a disgruntled-looking blue-winged Pterii opened it.

“Yes.” She flatly said, and Met smiled at her nervously.

“Hello,” he said. “I'm Captain Khimet Idiritri from Formici. Senator Kalos had me come from the Fleet to guard over Prince Adder.”

“Captain Met Idiritri.” The Pterii woman squinted at him, and he winced. It seemed she knew of the Formican custom of cutting men’s names, but he had grown to like the diminutive of his name. “He already has two guards.”

Met shrugged. “That's what Senator Kalos said.”

The woman scowled, but she jumped when she heard a soft voice speak from inside the room.

“If that is what my uncle wishes, Linde, let him in.”

Met’s heart shot to his throat.

He _knew_ that voice.

That was _Ian’s_ voice.

Linde looked reluctant, but she stepped aside to let Met in. Met awkwardly walked into the private balcony, surprised to hear an opera still going on downstairs, but all he could focus on was the gut-wrenchingly white pair of wings that hid his charge, currently sitting down on the floor, worryingly limp, atop what looked like the curtains that had previously covered the window looking down at the stage. Another Pterii woman, violet-winged and glowering at him fiercely, held her prince to herself protectively, but his hand came up to wrap around her wrist.

“Linde, Vesta, please leave us for a moment.”

The violet woman looked worried, but with a look from her blue partner, she relented and walked away. Linde and Vesta headed out the door, and when it shut quietly behind them, Adder weakly turned around to look at him.

Met’s heart sank to his gut.

Ian’s face stared back at him, and though Prince Adder had red eyes, starkly different from Ian’s soft blue, they were still just as wide and innocent and gentle, and Met felt his knees weaken.

Prince Adder had bruises on his neck. His waist. His sides. His thighs. A cloth lay discarded beside him, half hanging out of a dish with dirty water in it, misty white and with traces of blood.

This was not the precocious little prince he had heard of.

He'd seen this before. In slave dens. In swanky hotel raids.

“What… happened to you?” He heard his voice speak, as he stumbled forward, falling to his knees in front of him as the worst scenarios flashed through his mind. “Prince Adder…”

Adder gave him a sad, shy smile.

“My uncle.” He said softly. “Criminal lords. A secured alliance.”

Met’s chest tightened with horror.

“You… he _sold your body_ for an alliance?”

Adder’s expression fell, and he lowered his head. “He said if I were to be the leader Da’an Pas needed, I—”

Met shook his head. “No. _No._ ” He sighed, but he dared not touch the prince, in fear of spooking him. “He _can’t_ —you can’t—”

Adder laughed hollowly. “Just politics, he said.”

“That’s crap,” Met snapped, and Adder blinked back up at him again.

“Men would take advantage of any person,” He replied dully, and Met’s heart wrenched in his chest. “Even me, a prince. What is my innocence to my uncle if it cannot be useful?” Adder lowered his head, every inch a withering flower, but Met shook his head, carefully touching his bare shoulder, wincing at the flinch the prince made at his touch. “You are a man yourself, are you not, Captain?”

He looked up at him, red eyes glassy with tears. “Do you not wish to sully me the way another man did? Do you not feel the carnal pull of desire at your soul?” He leant forward, dangerously so, but Met’s shock kept him in place, no matter how much he itched to pull away. “What does my uncle want me to do for you to keep his relations with the Fleet?”

He shut his eyes slowly, moving his face closer to Met’s, and at his mention of the Fleet, Met snapped out of his daze, pulling away to shake his head.

“N-no, Your Highness.” He stammered, and Adder blinked at him slowly. “I am not here for your uncle’s gain.”

He took Adder’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I am here to protect you, and only you.”

Adder remained silent, blinking innocently, and Met could see Ian in the way the prince eyed him curiously.

“I will not betray you to Senator Kalos.” He said quietly. “I assert my loyalty to you.”

Adder regarded him for a long moment, before quietly saying, “Please kiss me.”

Met blinked at him, but Adder was already leaning forward. He wasted no time moving aside, pulling the prince into a tight hug instead. He clung onto him tightly, unknowing of the surprise that had crossed Adder’s face as his arms squeezed his body gently.

“I will not.” He said. “You deserve better than this.”

Adder gaped into the emptiness of the private balcony, before a pleased, devilish smirk crossed his lips.

“You’re a good man, Captain Met.” He said softly, his tone the complete opposite of his smirk as he hugged Met back. “Thank you.”

“I can’t stand injustice, Your Highness.” Met replied, stroking his hair gently to comfort him, as Adder buried his face in his neck. “I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.”

Captain Met was a good man, Adder thought.

But good men do make such good pawns.


	20. Choosing Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Met has to choose a side, and makes a decision he hopes he wouldn't regret.

“Captain.”

Met paused, his grip on the tray of tea cups and the teapot tightening slightly at the sound of Kalos’s voice. He turned slightly to see the Pterii man peering at him from a connecting corridor, and he stopped, and bowed slightly at him.

“Any word about my nephew?” He asked, his voice hushed, and he approached him quickly. “Has he tried anything on you? What has he told you about?”

Met swallowed nervously, and he thought back to the teary eyes, the pleading look and the soft voice that begged him for help.

“Nothing yet, sir.” He lied.

Kalos frowned. “He’s taking his damned sweet time.” He grumbled, and hurried away, not even bothering to say goodbye. Met thought dimly back to that morning, when Kalos had been talking in hushed tones to Vivere, and Met could only catch wind of a few phrases.

Galactic Senate.

Taxis Cadeyrn.

He wasn’t sure why those two could be mentioned in the same breath—the Fleet did not interfere in the affairs of the Galactic Senate, unless for escorts during Senate meetings.

Those weren’t due until a few months from now.

He had been suspicious, but then when Adder had tapped his wrist timidly, and he was reminded of Adder’s injuries, it had slipped his mind until now. What was Kalos doing with the Fleet? It made no sense.

Yet it did, somehow, when he spoke with Adder in his private room aboard General Linde’s ship. It started off with Met trying to comfort the boy, talking about anything and everything he could think of, and soon, he had managed the timid little prince to emerge from his cocoon. Soon he found himself speaking to a lively young teen with a kindred interest in history and politics, and Adder quickly grew close to his heart.

In a painfully bittersweet way, Adder reminded him of Ian.

It ran deeper than the physical similarities—even Adder’s interest in history and literature made it feel like Ian was back with him again, smiling and laughing.

Adder grew to trust Met quickly, too, and soon, the boy moved their conversation to the topic of his uncle, and the state of his own empire.

“ _I know what he’s been up to._ ” He had said, “ _He’s dealt with slave traders. Pirates. It is of no surprise if he has connections in the Fleet, as well. He’s been systematically dismantling the Pasian empire from the inside out, taking all that he could with him, possibly to run off when the whole empire goes down._ ”

The boy shook from where he had pressed next to Met’s side.

“ _For my family’s legacy’s sake—for my people, I cannot let that happen._ ”

Hearing that side of the whole thing from Adder put the entire debacle in a new perspective—Kalos’s involvement with the Fleet made so much more sense.

Met didn’t want to believe it, at the time, yet breakfast had all but confirmed it.

Yet he still chose to hope it wasn’t true.

“Captain.”

A short dip in a medtank did Prince Adder good, Met thought to himself, smiling back at the shyly smiling Pterii teen, who approached him at where he sat at a balcony, a cup of tea in front of him, still untouched as he waited for Adder to join him.

“It does,” Adder agreed, and Met felt his skin burn. He had said the first part aloud, had he? The blond sat down across him at the table, making a move to pour himself a cup of tea, when Met held his hand up at him to stop. “What's wrong?”

“Allow me.” He said kindly, pouring the prince a cup before handing it to him, smiling. “Careful, it’s hot.”

Adder giggled softly. “I am aware tea is hot, Captain.” He said, before taking a dainty sip. “You were right to have me take a dip in a medtank. The royal physician fussed over me terribly, but it’s nothing I can’t quite handle.”

Met grinned at him, but Adder suddenly deflated, sighing deeply as he set his cup down.

Beyond them, the Pasian summer was warm, almost hot, insects making sleepy noises in the garden beneath them, the sun unforgiving save for the shade the umbrella over their heads provided. The bushes of flowers at the balcony they sat at began to bloom, white blossoms already beginning to burst open, and one of them flew towards them on the hot summer breeze.

“Oh,” Met caught it before it could hit Adder, and he held it out at the prince with a kind smile. “A flower for your thoughts, Your Highness?” He asked.

Adder chuckled softly, daintily behind his hand, but he took the flower from Met, twirling it between his fingers. “I was thinking about how you reminded me of my brother.”

Met paused. “Your brother.” He echoed. He had dug deep for information on that mysterious man, his name having long disappeared from the records, but he had managed to find out his name—and the consequences of uttering it on Pasian soil.

Instantaneous conviction of treason, for which the punishment was traditional execution.

He swallowed nervously, as Adder tucked his hair behind his ear.

“He was as gentle to me as you are,” he said. “Where the court resented my mother and I deeply, he and Father loved us just as deeply.” His bottom lip quivered. “I miss him.”

Met’s heart sank for the boy across him.

“Do you think he was guilty, captain?” Adder asked, his voice weak with grief, and their eyes met. “Do you believe as my uncle says, that he killed his own father?”

“With the way you talk about him, Your Highness, I firmly believe in his innocence.” He said. “Such a gentle man who loved his family could not have killed him.”

Adder’s eyes—deep red, like his father’s, like his brother’s, like _blood_ —lit up in innocent relief. “ _Thank you_.” He breathed. “Truly. There are many who believe otherwise, simply for the fact the circumstances would have been beneficial to him.” He sighed. “I… I wish to seek justice for him. I have tirelessly worked for seven years trying to find evidence of his innocence, of evidence of my uncle’s involvement, but… I am not enough, on my own.”

Met took his hand on the table, squeezing it reassuringly.

“You have me, Prince Adder.” He said, and Adder smiled at him gratefully.

“Now, I do.” He said, “I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am for you to be here,” He lifted Met’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles, and the Formican flushed deeply. Adder giggled softly. “It is affection, here in Da’an Pas.” He explained. “But it is not quite enough to represent my gratefulness to you.”

“Think nothing of it, Your Highness.” He replied, laughing softly.

“No, you do not understand, Captain.” Adder’s eyes were sad. “It has been a hard, hard life. Linde and Vesta are my only allies, and now… you.” He sighed happily, squeezing Met’s hand. “I feel… I feel like I can honour my brother, with your help.”

Met smiled at him. “That’s what I’m here for. At least this, I can do.”

Adder blinked at him. “‘At least this’?” He asked.

Met laughed sadly, and shrugged. “Well, Your Highness, I had recently lost three of my dearest friends. I loved them very much, almost like family, but I couldn’t do anything to help them.” He looked at Adder with a warm look in his eyes. “In a way, I may dare say we’re a lot alike. I miss them terribly. Ren, Aurum… I wonder if they’re doing alright.”

“Ren… Ishigaki?” Adder ventured, and Met nodded slowly. “The pilot that condemned Living Ship kidnapped with her.”

“She didn’t kidnap him.” Met interrupted him, but he quickly did a double take. “O-oh, I’m sorry, Your Highness.”

Adder smiled at him forgivingly. Met relaxed, and continued. “You shouldn’t trust the news. Ren and Aurum are good people. They’d been wrongly accused, just like your brother. I just want to bring the truth to light and prove their innocence.”

“Then I shall pray to the gods in our pantheon for their guidance for you,” he said earnestly.

“Thanks, Your Highness.” Met smiled, and kissed Adder’s knuckles, too. The blond flushed, hiding his mouth behind his free hand, and he chuckled. “Affection, right?” He asked. “Your help for mine. Your gratefulness for mine.” He said, squeezing Adder’s hand.

“Indeed,” Adder laughed softly, but then he turned around, as if to check if there were others spying on them. When he deemed their conversation safe, he leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially at Met. “Captain, I apologise for the suddenness, but I need your help.”

Met’s heart shot to his throat. “Of course.”

“I think this will be of benefit to you as well.” Adder gave him a sweet smile, and handed him a slip of paper. “The patrol ships leave in an hour. Please see Linde to secure yourself a ship, and follow the instructions on that paper.”

Met swallowed nervously. “They will expect me to be here with you, though.”

Adder’s smile was conspiratorial, like a child planning a prank. “They will not expect you to leave, either. They won’t check on you until tomorrow. You will be able to make it back then.”

Met laughed softly, shaking his head fondly.

“Well, then.” He said, incredulous, “Your wish is my command, Prince Adder.”

Adder’s smile was warm.

“Thank you, Captain. You truly are my beacon in these dark times.”

* * *

“Entil, get the door.”

Groaning softly, the young man straightened up from where he was playing games to glower at his sister, who was in the garage, tinkering with something, _yet again_.

Entil sighed, getting up.

Well, he couldn’t blame her—ever since the Fleet broke into their family bar, the Flyby Ladies, Entil, Entis and their father had to move to their safehouse, again. It was a protocol the twins established when the Minos crew disbanded—to keep both their family, and the Minos crew safe.

When the crew scattered, only the twins got to keep the crew’s locations—and Entil and Entis knew they had to protect it with their lives.

Prince Adder was after them, eradicating the Minos crew one by one, and there was no way the twins would let him get Ornithos.

Not after what he went through at Adder’s hands.

Entil peered through the peephole to see a young Formican man—a Fleet officer, still in his uniform, and Entil swallowed nervously.

“It’s the Fleet.”

Entis darted into the living room again, her eyes wide.

“Keep it cool and don’t freak out. We’re not guilty of anything, we’re in a civvie neighbourhood. We’ll be fine.” She said quickly, “I’ll go fix him _something_ if he tries anything funny.”

“Right.” Entil nodded, and turned back to the door. He took a deep breath, and opened it, plastering a smile on his face. “Hello, Officer. What can I do for you today?”

“O-oh, hello.” The man nodded. “I’m Captain Khimet Idiritri of the 157th Infantry of the Fleet.” He said, offering his hand for Entil to shake, and the young man shook it. “I’d like to ask you a few questions?”

“Sure thing.” Entil nodded, gesturing for Met to follow him inside, and he pushed his gaming system aside with his foot to let the man sit on the couch. Met offered him a thankful smile, as Entil settled down on the beat-up, overstuffed armchair next to the couch. “So, Officer. What’s up?”

“Yeah, um…” Met looked around nervously, and nodded. “I was told you know where Stella Aurum and Ren Ishigaki are?” He asked, and Entil’s eyes widened.

“What?” He replied flatly, and Entis hurried into the room, gaping at him.

“I know you,” She said, “You’re the class valedictorian.” Entis made vague gestures with her hands, “The, uh… I saw you pick up Ren on TV!”

Met flushed. “Um, yes. He’s my best friend. I’m trying to save him and Aurum, and I need your help.” He looked at Entil again. “I heard they were last spotted at your family’s bar. Please, I need to know where they went.”

The twins looked at each other worryingly, but eventually Entis nodded.

“A’ight, over here.” She jerked her head towards the garage, and Met followed after her. He gaped at the huge terminal that was set up in the middle of it.

“This… this is impressive.” He breathed, and Entis giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Thanks. Built it myself.”

Met dazedly brushed his hand over the terminal, but she paid it no mind.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” She grinned, and Met laughed softly.

“Yes.” He said, and with a pleased hum, she tapped away at the terminal’s keyboard, pulling up Eliz’s profile and gestured at it. “My friends and I have this network we use to keep in touch,” she explained, “And one of them did message me about Ren and Stella Aurum showing up on Bulac.”

Met read the name on the screen. “Doctor… Eliz Voger?”

“Yeah, she works in the city, uh… Phium.” Entis nodded. “So I guess, if you book it, you’ll find Ren and Stella Aurum there.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” Met sighed. “Thank you, so much.”

“No problem.” Entis nodded. “Ren seems like a nice guy, my friend really likes him.” She sighed. “And he knows a good person when he meets ‘em.”

“I’m glad.” Met nodded. “You have been a huge help. Thank you.” He patted the terminal. “Thanks to your terminal, too.”

“Anytime, Officer.” Entis nodded. “Take care.”

She showed Met to the door, unmindful of Entil going back to his game, and when she shut the door after him, she heaved a sigh of relief.

“Disaster averted.” She grinned at her brother, and Entil gave her a thumbs-up.

“Way to go.” He said flatly, not taking his eyes off the screen. She rolled her eyes, and headed back to the garage.

* * *

Outside, Met hurried back to his ship, a borrowed Pasian patrol ship, and a transmission patched through the moment he got into space once again.

Adder’s hopeful face appeared on his screen, and he gave the boy a reassuring smile.

“Hopefully you have all you need?”

“ _Yes, thank you so much._ ” Adder nodded. “ _The bug you planted on the terminal works like a charm. I should be able to ascertain Captain Minos’s location, as well as Captain Ren and Stella Aurum._ ”

Met heaved a sigh of relief. Soon, he could see Ren and Aurum again.

And with the Exalted Pirate Minos’s location found, perhaps Adder could get justice for his brother as well.

“I’m glad.” He nodded. “I’ll be back to Da’an Pas soon, Prince Adder.”

The boy nodded. “ _Safe travels._ ”

He gave the prince a salute, before terminating the transmission. Quickly, Met jumped into hyperspace, and sped off towards the Pasian system.


	21. Good Morning, Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren has a rough morning.

This was the second time he had seen this place, he thought.

A place floating in the middle of the cosmos, one with the universe and yet somehow above it, a temple of awesome violet marble, framed with huge, hulking pillars that seemed to carry the weight of the universe. At one end of the temple was a huge double-door, bolted shut and eerily impassable, and Ren found himself simply standing there in the middle of the violet platform, wondering where he was.

Time seemed to move forward and backward, as if future events happened before the past, or at the same time. He could hear voices, faint and soft.

Ornithos’s voice, warm and soft and confiding.

Ricki’s voice, sad and lonely and sympathetic.

A smile made its way to his face.

Good people, he thought. How rare in the universe they were.

The first time he dreamt of this odd, ethereal place, he remembered white wings and a sad smile obscured with scattering rainbows in welling tears. He remembered goodbyes, the wrenching pain of grief stabbing his heart like a knife.

Like the knife that killed Ian—

“Oh, you’re here!”

Ren lit up, and he turned to see Ricki standing behind him suddenly. He smiled down at her, and shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He said, “Where _is_ here, exactly?”

Ricki blushed, and shook her head. “No, you’re asleep right now. Inside a medtank, while Ornithos and I fly all the way to Bulac.”

“The Felippus System?” Ren cocked his head. “But why?”

The little girl laughed nervously. “I…” she began to speak, but her eyes widened. “O-oh, we’re running out of time. Listen—I, um, I’m in your head right now. I don’t know how this all works, I don’t know _why_ , but I just wanted to, um…” She deflated slightly, and scratched her cheek. “I wanted to save you, so I tapped into Neverwhere for extra help.”

Ren’s eyes widened. “Wait. This is—” he began, but Ren’s world warped into darkness, and the name of the place between the cosmos rolled off his lips as he woke.

“Neverwhere,” he gasped, his eyes flying open to realise it was late afternoon, blades of a ceiling fan turning lazily above his head. “It—it’s…”

He turned in bed to see Ricki curled up against his side, fast asleep. Her hand was buried in his hair as she slept, her small hand curled into a loose fist. Ren calmed down at the sight of her safe, sighing fondly as he stroked her hair, now mercifully dry. Carefully he sat up, tucking her in properly as he slipped an extra pillow under her head.

“Oh, you’re awake. It’s been two days, you know.”

Ren turned to see Ornithos standing in front of the window, back silhouetted by golden sunlight, a cloud seemingly perched on his shoulder as it rolled by slowly. The wind did not blow outside, and Ren could hear the buzz of insects, and the lazy creak of wood from next door.

“Are we… in Bulac?” Ren asked carefully, and Ornithos gave him a smile he couldn’t read.

“You sure know your places, beautiful.” He chuckled fondly as he leaned on the windowsill, resting his chin on his hand as he looked longingly at Ren. The human flushed slightly, but said nothing of it. “Ricki… told me who she was. A Living Ship.”

“I…” Ren looked down at Ricki, and Ornithos shook his head.

“Hey, don’t hold it against her. If she didn’t, all three of us would have died down there.” He said warmly, and Ren jolted.

“N-no, I-I don’t mean to—”

“Relax.” Ornithos chuckled. “I know you don’t. I can see how much you love the kid. She’s like your own, isn’t she?”

Ren deflated, and smiled shyly. “Yeah.” He nodded.

“So, yeah. We flew here to have you looked at and fixed up. I had a friend take a look at you, and I shouldered the expenses.” Ornithos ran his hand through his hair, and gave Ren a lopsided grin. Ren’s flush grew deeper. “So. Do you trust me now, beautiful?”

“Seems I have to.” He reluctantly agreed. “Thank you…  for saving my life.”

Ornithos beamed at him, and turned to look outside the window, sighing.

“Ornithos?”

“Yeah, Ren?”

“You’ve never actually been to Neverwhere, have you?”

Ornithos stopped, his back facing Ren, and he couldn’t tell what kind of expression the man was wearing.

“A self-respecting pirate captain keeps his treasures close to himself. Their maps, even closer. You didn’t forget the coordinates so much as you needed them back at Xandria.” Ren continued, “The Exalted Pirate Minos doesn’t use that style.”

Ornithos laughed, humorlessly, and Ren itched to get a blaster in his hand. His skin prickled with nervousness. At any minute, the pirate could attack them, and Ren had nothing on him to let him fight back. He could still barely feel his leg, the medical salve applied to it still rendering his nerves numb.

“Yeah, he doesn’t.” Ornithos said flatly, “Derrick told me as much when he gave me the title.”

“Gave you the…”

Ornithos spun around suddenly, crossing the room in three wide steps to press his hand to Ren’s mouth, pressing him down against the mattress. Panic flooded his eyes as he began to struggle, but Ornithos hushed him.

“Rickster’s gonna wake up. We really wouldn’t want her seeing us argue like this.” he whispered.

Ren settled for glaring up at him.

“That’s a good human.” Ornithos hummed. “I’m not joking—the Exalted Pirate Minos is more of a title, a concept, handed down from pirate captain to his closest confidant, and the crew is always different. When I escaped execution back in Da’an Pas, Derrick, the old Minos, rescued me and helped me back to health. Eventually I inherited his title, and look where it’s brought me now.”

Ren jerked his head away from Ornithos’s hand, and he let him.

“Why did you lie to us?”

“People lie all the time, Ren. I was looking for a crew when I was in that tavern in Ingal, and I wanted a crew brave enough—or _stupid_ enough to come with me.”

“Ricki _needed_ to get to Neverwhere.” Ren hissed. “She _adores_ you.”

“Between the two of us, honey, the one Ricki adores more is _you_.” Ornithos poked Ren’s chest. “She likes me well enough, but you—Ren, she _gave up_ Neverwhere to make sure you’re safe. There’s a huge chance that that astrochart with Adder right now is gone. When that guy does things himself, it’s usually a drastic measure for whatever it is he’s planning.” He scowled, and pulled back from Ren. “In the morning, when she wakes up, I’ll be gone.”

“Where are you going?”

“Elsewhere. All I needed was a ride to Xandria, but the whole jungle planet detour was pretty nice while we had it. Now that I know Adder has the map, I can bet that I’ll never find my way to that system ever again.”

“What even _is_ that system?” Ren struggled to sit up again, careful not to jostle Ricki beside him. “What’s so stupidly important in that system and what does it have to do with Neverwhere?”

“Derrick said that somewhere in that system was where a Living Ship died.” Ornithos crossed his arms, not quite answering Ren’s questions. “Now, I know that Stella Caduca died a while back, but there was another one that died. Derrick said he saw her die, and it haunted him every night after. I wanted to find her Heartstone.”

“Her… Heartstone. How do you even know it’s there?”

“There was a scuffle. Derrick said he saw a smaller pirate ship attack her, and then it crashed on a planet nearby.” Ornithos sighed, shrugging. “He says he’s positive it’s on the ship that got away.”

“How could you say that?”

“The Living Ship… morphed right then and there. Like she lost herself to something new, Derrick said.” Ornithos looked down at Ricki. “Like she… forgot how to be herself.”

Ren’s eyes widened, and he unconsciously held Ricki tighter closer to himself. Ornithos grinned at him wryly. “Horrible, right? I can only imagine what it must be like for her to die that way. To have her mind torn from her, and then floated away right in front of her eyes…” he shook his head, “Well, I guess she never felt a thing, but it’s wistful thinking.”

“What… do you want with her Heartstone?”

“It’s said that in the last moments of a Living Ship’s life, they get to be shown the way home,” Ornithos walked away from the bed to look out the window, into the dry desert stretching ahead of them. “It’s the last thing burned into their minds.”

“The way home… Neverwhere.” Ren breathed.

“Yeah, exactly.” Ornithos nodded. “I wanted to find that Heartstone and use it to find my way to Neverwhere.” He stopped, “Though I guess Stella Caduca’s Heartstone would work just as well.”

Ren’s eyes widened. “... Oh, no.”

Ornithos stopped. “Oh, yes.” He said, grinning behind his hand.

“Ornithos—” Ren began, but the pirate interrupted him with the hand that covered his mouth covering his, and Ren’s eyes widened when he felt something warm and hard press against his lips.

“See you again, if I don’t die, beautiful.” He murmured, and he swept out of the room. Ren watched him leave, desperation clawing at his throat as he felt whatever it was Ornithos had pressed to his mouth drop down to his lap. When the door slid shut behind Ornithos’s retreating back, he looked down to see a cluster of three red gemstones along a golden chain. An earring. One of the two that Ornithos was wearing. Ren’s expression tightened, and he held the earring close to his chest.

There was _no way_ he was letting Ornithos do this alone.

“Ricki, Ricki,” he hurriedly shook the little girl sleeping next to him, and she jumped awake, blinking blearily as she sat up.

“… Ren?” she asked.

“Ricki, Ornithos is gone.”

Her eyes widened, shock startling her into waking, and she gaped at him. “But he said… but he _said_ …”

“Look,” He gripped her shoulders to ground her, “Ricki, while I was asleep, I saw Neverwhere.”

She shook in his grip, her eyes wide.

“I saw it—purple marble, pillars, _everything_. You’re right. It’s _real_.” He said quickly. “We _can_ —no, _will_ find it. I know that now.”

“Ren, that’s—” She stopped herself, and tried again. “I’m glad you feel the same, but Ornithos—”

“Yeah, okay, Ornithos. He’s gone. He left us here because he’s decided to do things himself.” He said, and Ricki gasped.

“He…”

“But I’m not going to let him.” Ren said firmly. “One, he’s going to get himself killed. And secondly—”

“You like him?” Ricki asked, but he only blushed in response, before continuing.

“ _And secondly_ , there’s another Heartstone that’s considerably less dangerous to go after, and the map to it is in Da’an Pas.” He said pointedly. “And _all three of us_ are going to get it, whether he wants to or not.”

Ricki blinked at him. “You… really want Ornithos with us now, don’t you?”

Ren deflated. “I overheard your conversation with him. I was half awake.” He confessed. “I know he dreads going to Da’an Pas, but it’s the only way we’re going to get anywhere close to finding Neverwhere, preferably _alive_.” He blushed. “And… I heard his wish. I can’t imagine what it’s like to suffer for a friend.” He looked down at the earring Ornithos left him. “Met must be going through the same thing too. I want… I want to help Ornithos too.”

Ricki’s expression softened. “I’m glad, Ren.”

He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck before turning serious. “Alright. We need to head out after him.”

“Right.” Ricki nodded, “But how do we—”

A crash outside made the both of them jump, and Ren pulled Ricki close to himself protectively.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Ricki stammered, and Ren shook his head, frowning.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good.” He replied, quickly putting on Ornithos’s earring. “C’mon, we have to move.”

He rolled out of bed, grateful that his leg was healed enough to let him walk properly. All that was left was remnants of the painkillers they injected into him while they put him in a stronger medtank, and it left a strange mild numb sensation in his leg.

No matter—what mattered was that he could _run._

Ren headed towards an armchair across the room to pick up his Fleet jacket, folded neatly and set aside, pulling it on as he turned to see Ricki getting her shoes back on too.

It felt like they were on Ingal again, left alone after too much, chasing after a bigger goal.

Only this time, it wasn’t just Neverwhere—

They had to find Ornithos again, too.

“ _They’re somewhere in here._ ” An unfamiliar voice said outside, muffled by the door. Ren jolted, and Ricki hurried over to him. The human grit his teeth in worry—they were unarmed, and he didn’t know if whoever it was that was outside was dangerous.

He really didn’t want to find out.

“ _Psst! Hey! You!_ ” A voice rang from the small intercom by the bed, and Ren gaped at it. Ricki hurried to answer it.

“D-Doctor Eliz?” She stammered, and Ren realised it must have been his doctor.

“ _Good, you’re still in there._ ” The woman sighed, “ _Listen, the both of you_ have _to get out of there. The little girl is a Living Ship, isn’t she? Fly—just go!_ ”

“Wh-what do you mean? Who’s after us?” Ren demanded, and she let out an exasperated grumble.

“ _We don’t have time for this! Just get going!_ ”

“Ren—” Ricki began, but Ren nodded and picked her up. He hurried out towards the window, and looked around him.

“I think I can make it to that fire escape,” He panted, and Ricki nodded fearfully, clinging onto him as he climbed out of the window. “Hold on tight, okay?”

“Y-yeah, I will.”

Gritting his teeth, Ren mustered all his strength to jump the small distance away from the window to the fire escape next to them, and he landed on it with a loud crash. The both of them flinched at the noise, but they could do little else as Ren began to climb down as fast as he could.

“C’mon, c’mon…” Ricki muttered quietly as they descended, only much to Ren’s shock, her mutters cut off into a scream.

He felt her suddenly forcibly pulled from him, and he turned to see her struggling in a Pasian guard’s grip. His eyes widened, and his jaw fell at the sight—when he, too, was suddenly taken.


	22. Snakes Fester Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Adder bares his fangs.

The speeder he stole was _fast_. A shame he had to sell it off, but he couldn’t exactly tote it around with him across the galaxy.

Ornithos sighed deeply, slinging himself off the speeder before he pulled his goggles down. He kept his helmet on, though—he still had to hide somehow, though Bulac’s spaceports weren’t the busiest when it came to Fleet officers roaming around. He lit up at the sight of a familiar man—a tall, short-fur Nestran, the orange of his fur no less brighter than the black stripes that crossed it. He gave the man a wave, but the man didn’t return his good mood.

“Camlus?” He asked, cocking his head when he got close enough. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, Ornithos, but we received this just now.” He murmured, and passed a small device to Ornithos.

The redhead gave him a quizzical look, but took a look at it.

His blood froze in his veins when he saw a smirking Adder on the screen, a hand on his chin.

A video message, he realised, and with a shaking thumb, he pressed play.

“ _Hello, Exalted Pirate Minos. It has been a while._ ” Adder sneered, “ _I doubt you remember me, but there is no doubt you know who I am._ ”

Ornithos paused the video and looked at Camlus in shock, but the man shook his head. His tail flickered in nervous agitation.

“I don’t know how he found out your transmission frequency. I’d tried asking Entil and Entis but they haven’t been able to answer my calls in a while.”

“Damn it,” Ornithos breathed. “The Fleet was there when I left them.”

“No.” Camlus breathed. “Then Prince Adder…”

“Shh, hold on.” Ornithos continued the video.

“ _I have been looking for you for a very, very long time now. Believe me, I have oh so very diligently tried._ ” He pulled back, leaning back in his seat, and crossed his legs. “ _And now I have you. And you_ will _come to me._ ”

“The hell does he want?” Ornithos growled, though Camlus could see how terribly his hands were shaking.

“Ornithos, dude…”

“ _Shh._ ”

“ _You know, in a game as terrible as this one, it’s such a terrible thing to show any weaknesses._ ” Adder hummed, drawing a slim finger down the side of his chin. “ _And for such an oddly sentimental man like yourself, it’s only so easy to get attached to anyone you’ve spent enough time with._ ”

Ornithos’s eyes widened. “ _No_.” He breathed.

“ _Take for instance, a certain Captain Ren Ishigaki and one Interstellar Ship Stella Aurum._ ” Adder’s smile was dagger-sharp, and devilish amusement flickered across his blood red eyes. “ _A lovely pair, those two. A shame, what happened to them._ ”

“This little—” Ornithos began, shaking, and Camlus squeezed his shoulder.

“Ornithos.” The man said, and the redhead turned to look at him, eyes wild. “Calm down. We’ll solve nothing like this.”

As if on cue, a call patched through from Eliz.

“ _Ornithos? God, I am so… sorry, I…_ ” she sounded out of breath. “ _I tried to warn them, but I don’t think they escaped._ ”

Ornithos’s expression hardened. “No, it’s fine, Eliz. You did what you could.”

“ _The Pasians searched the hospital, but they stopped quickly enough._ ” She reported. “ _Luckily, no one else was hurt._ ”

Camlus frowned, and Ornithos nodded.

“Thanks. I’ll take it from here, Eliz.”

“ _Take care._ ”

Ornithos went back to the video.

“ _You’re such a damned fool, thinking that Bulac was safe enough for you._ ” Adder laughed daintily. “ _My uncle may have been stupid enough to stop following you after Tropos, but I knew better._ ”

He lifted a little datapad from between the pillows of the dais he sat on.

“ _Doctor Eliz Voger. Ex-Minos crew, a general practitioner in the open city of Phium._ ” He read, each word resting on Ornithos’s shoulders like a death sentence. “ _Don’t underestimate how far I have dug into your dirty little story, Minos. I_ will _find every single one of your crew, if only it meant to find you._ ”

“And you did.” Ornithos said weakly.

“ _And I did._ ” Adder chimed happily, as if on cue. “ _Entil and Entis Virini._ ”

“The twins.” Camlus said, horrified. “Oh, god. What did he _do?_ He’s been hunting us down for _ages_ , we had to split up to keep anyone from dying, Ornithos—”

“I’m going to go.” The redhead growled. “This is crossing the gods-damned line.”

“ _I learned a lot from those two._ ” Adder chuckled brightly. “ _Thanks to the help of the most wonderful pawn I could ever have._ ”

“This little witch.” Camlus swore. “Stella Aurum—that was that kid you’re with, right?”

“Yeah.” Ornithos replied, fear curling in his gut. “I… I have to get them back.”

“ _So, dear Captain, will you come to their aid? Captain Ren and Stella Aurum do so terribly need your help._ ” Adder laughed darkly. “ _Or will you leave them the same way you abandoned the future of Da’an Pas?_ ”

Ornithos flinched, and turned away from the screen.

“He’s not allowed to use that.” He said shakily, and Camlus rubbed his back.

“ _You know where to find me._ ” Adder smirked, and the message ended.

“Ornithos…” Camlus said weakly, but the redhead already had a set expression on his face.

“There’s no other choice.” He said. “I’m going. Ren and Ricki don’t deserve this. Show me to the ship.”

“Right,” The Nestran nodded, “This way.”

Ornithos made a move to follow him, only to be stopped by the sound of something exploding behind him. Camlus jolted, and both men hurried out of the port bay and into the unforgiving, harsh desert sunlight.

Far away in the distance, a Pasian ship exploded, and a Fleet one emerged from it. Ornithos’s eyes widened.

“It’s them.” He breathed, and he looked pleadingly at Camlus.

The man gave him a kind smile, and patted the speeder.

“Go.” He nodded. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, my friend.”

Ornithos beamed at him, and pulled his goggles and helmet back on.

“Thank you, Camlus,” He said, “I’ll see you again real soon.”

* * *

Ren settled for glaring up at the Pasian soldiers as they flew across Bulac’s sky, heading straight towards the spaceport. Beside him, her hands bound similarly to Ren’s behind them, Ricki looked up at him worriedly.

This situation was only getting far worse. Whomever it was these Pasian soldiers worked for—Prince Adder or the Regent, neither were good news.

Apparently, it wasn’t enough for the universe to drag Ren and Ricki to problems with just the Fleet—they had to get tangled up in Da’an Pas’s mess, too.

Pilot and Living Ship shared nervous looks, and Ren could only hope that Ricki could understand what he was up to.

“Hey, remember that time aboard the Executor?” He murmured, and Ricki’s eyes widened. He nodded inconspicuously, and she swallowed nervously.

He knew why she was hesitating—he could feel it: her worry, and fear. Not for getting caught, but for hurting the passengers in the ship with them. In the end, they were all just simply doing their jobs, and Ricki didn’t want to hurt them.

Ren squeezed her hand. “The Pterii can fly, can’t they?” He asked, catching their guards’ attentions, and realisation dawned on Ricki’s face.

“Oh, right.” She nodded, and one of them poked Ren’s foot with an inactive vibroblade.

“What’s this all about?” He asked in heavily-accented Basic, and Ren glared up at him.

“We’re busting ourselves out of here.” He snarled, and Ricki quickly transformed around him, destroying the hull of the ship they were in. The sound of their shackles breaking sent a wave of relief through Ren’s chest as he shot his hands forward, easily grabbing Ricki’s controls, and he pulled her up, speeding across the sky towards the spaceport itself.

Behind them, the Pasians were thrown in disarray, and Ren nodded to himself as he took account of all the people on board—all of them were in the air now, but the force of their ship breaking would force them to land.

Good—that was enough to let Ren and Ricki get away, and quickly.

He shot her in a beeline for the spaceport across the sand dunes, when he heard Ricki gasp.

“Ricki? What’s wrong?”

“ _It’s Ornithos!_ ”

Ren’s eyes widened, and he enhanced his view on the windshield to realise that a speeder came racing out towards them in the middle of the desert. He dove them down closer to the sand, carefully gauging a height he could survive jumping. “R-Ricki! Drop me out! Hurry!”

“ _Right!_ ”

In front of him, the windshield popped open, and he jumped out of it, flying right at Ornithos, who was flying a speeder through the desert without a helmet or goggles. He straightened up, catching Ren in his arms as he let the human knock him off the speeder, and the two of them rolled along the sand. Ricki followed suit after them, slamming into the both of them and burying the three of them into the sand as the speeder came to a halt.

Ornithos was the first to pop his head out of the sand, panicked, and he quickly checked Ren and Ricki over.

“Oh, thank the gods—Adder, he said he—”

“Someone tried to kidnap us,” Ricki panted, and she hugged him tightly. Ornithos sighed in relief and hugged her back. “But we broke out and came looking for you.”

“You came back for us.” Ren breathed, and Ornithos laughed sheepishly.

“W-well, I couldn’t just…” He blushed, “I couldn’t just _leave_ the two of you with Adder.”

Ren laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll admit it—you really _are_ a good guy.”

Ornithos beamed at him, and Ricki lifted her head from his chest.

“Ren said you were going to do things yourself from now on.” She mumbled, and Ornithos looked at Ren, who avoided his gaze. “Was it because of us? Don’t blame yourself, that wasn’t your fault. It’s the Fleet’s fault. It’s that Prince Adder and that Regent’s fault. Not yours. We don’t blame you.”

“Thanks, kid.” He said, warmth welling in his tone, and Ren couldn’t help but smile. “I’m sorry. I won’t leave you two again.”

“We’re getting to Neverwhere, all three of us.” Ricki said determinedly, “And we’re going to get that map back from Prince Adder.” She squeezed Ornithos’s hand. “You trust us, right?”

Ornithos laughed, and nodded. “Absolutely.” He got up onto his feet, and looked into the distance. “C’mon, the Pasians will be recovering soon. We’re going to Da’an Pas on our own terms.”

“Yeah.” Ricki nodded. “C’mon,” she got up, too, Ren following her example, and she jogged a few metres ahead of them. She gave the two men a look—Ren, smiling at her fondly, and Ornithos, determination clear on his face.

“Let’s get out of here.” she said, and transformed.

* * *

It had been two days since Met infiltrated the Virini twins’s computer, and something didn’t sit right in Met’s chest at the thought of it. It _did_ help, right?

He looked out the window, sighing deeply, and thought back to General Maclaine’s words.

Did he make the right decision?

“Captain?” Adder asked softly, and Met turned back to the prince, who cocked his head innocently at him. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, it’s… nothing.” He said weakly, and he looked back at the boy wearing Ian’s face so, so well.

He’d heard about how closely Adder resembled his mother—not just his pretty face, but most importantly—his mind. He was as brilliant as the old Queen Commander of Da’an Pas, and Met knew that firsthand; he and Adder were discussing politics and history. Of course Adder would be a smart boy—

But could such a wilting flower really be capable of crimes like trespassing on private information? Sure, it was to find the Exalted Pirate Minos, to exact justice for what he did—rather, what he _didn’t_ do for his brother, but…

Could Adder— _Ian_ —really be capable of cruel espionage?

“I was just… thinking.”

“You can tell me.” Adder smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand, but Met’s answering smile was lacklustre, and he shook his head. The prince’s smile dropped slightly in meek, child-like disappointment, and something wrenched painfully in Met’s heart.

As if by luck, his communicator beeped suddenly. He jumped, and more relieved than embarrassed, he excused himself to leave the balcony for a moment, before darting away into the corridor.

Left alone at their usual spot, their tea growing cold, Adder looked down at his hand and frowned. The warmth and innocence slipped from his demeanour, and he leaned back on the pillows of his dais.

It had been two days, and the closest he got to the Formican man was cuddled by his side on the dais of his mother’s balcony, talking about anything and everything. It had gotten rather intimate, and the two of them were practically draped over each other, but Met had been nothing but polite, and his touches had been chaste.

Captain Met was a harder man to seduce than Romerus had been.

He huffed softly.

Well, this could get _fun_.

* * *

They took off easily, the sand flying high behind them as they shot high up in the sky, hitting the atmosphere and shooting into the space around the planet. Ren flew them up into orbit around Bulac, parking on the planet’s rocky little moon, much to Ornithos’s surprise.

“What’s up?” He asked, as Ren tapped in a number on the intercommunications module on the display. “Are you… calling someone?”

“Yeah,” Ren replied, as he tapped the ‘call’ button, smiling as the line rang.

“Who?”

Met’s face suddenly appeared on the windshield display, and relief flooded Ren’s chest. It had felt like ages.

“ _... Ren?_ ”

“Met.” He breathed, and the man across the line let out a loud hoot.

“ _Ren! Ren! Blessed Winds, you’re alive! You’re okay!_ ”

“I got my leg broken,” Ren couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face, but Met was far too elated to be dismayed.

“ _You’re okay. Oh, man. Wait until Prince Adder hears this._ ”

At that, Ren’s heart sank to his stomach. “M-Met, wait. What did you say?” Beside him, Ornithos’s hand gripped the end of his armrest in a knuckle-white grip.

“ _Prince Adder. I’d been assigned by Commander Maclaine to be the Pasian Royal Family’s personal guard, and Senate President Kalos had me pretty much spy on his nephew for him._ ” Met frowned, and sighed. “ _But listen, things have been… weird, to say the least. I don’t have much reason to distrust him, but he said he needed my help._ ”

“Don’t help him.” Ornithos suddenly said, and it was only then that Met noticed him sitting next to Ren. “Whatever he said to you, don’t believe him.”

Met squinted at him. “ _And who are_ you?”

“That’s not important,” Ornithos shot back, “Listen—Adder doesn’t _need_ helping. He never did. Not even while his brother was still alive. He’s got you under his spell, and you’ve got to snap out of it.”

Met seemed to hesitate, but then he shook his head. “ _Where’s Aurum?_ ”

“ _Hi, Met!_ ” Ricki chirped, even though he couldn't see her.

“I'm flying her right now. Met—listen. He's got a point. We’re on to something here. Ian’s death means so much more than getting me and Ricki out of the garrison.”

“ _Ricki?_ ” Met’s eyes widened. “ _Is that… Aurum, did you choose that?_ ”

“ _I did._ ” She replied. “ _Ian and I thought it up before he died._ ”

Met looked at Ren, delight clear in his eyes.

“She…”

Ren smiled. “She did.”

“ _Oh, wow. Ren._ ” Met ran his hand down his face and sighed. “ _I wish I was there with you right now._ ”

Ornithos cleared his throat loudly, and Met scowled at him, but that was all he did.

“ _Okay, I'm listening. What's wrong with Prince Adder?_ ”

“We just came from Xandria and we found that he recently stole an astrochart from there.” Met’s eyes widened disbelievingly. “We think he's looking for Neverwhere, or in the very least, preventing people from finding it.”

“ _Wait, wait—Neverwhere? Ren, that's just an old wives’ tale._ ”

“No, it’s definitely _real_.” Ren said with conviction, and Ornithos couldn’t help but smile at him fondly. Ren ignored him. “That’s what we’re doing right now. We’re trying to find Neverwhere.”

“ _What about your case? And the Fleet?_ ” Worry never looked good on Met’s face, and Ren hated having put it there. “ _I've been looking for evidence to prove your innocence, ever since you guys disappeared._ ”

Ren’s eyes widened. “... Met.” He breathed. “That's… thanks.” He smiled slowly, and Ornithos irately cleared his throat again. Ren swatted at his arm. “Well, Ricki believes that if we find Neverwhere, we'll be able to bring Ian back.”

Met paused. “ _Bring… him back?_ ”

Ren nodded. “Yeah. We could all be together again. Just like the old times.”

Met flashed him a toothy grin. “ _I'd like that._ ” He sighed. “ _Okay. I'll see if I can find the astrochart here. Maybe Prince Adder has it hidden somewhere._ ”

“You're the best, Met.”

“ _Be careful out there._ ” Met frowned. “ _The Fleet is all over the place, thanks to the civil unrest all over the Pasian empire. Commander Maclaine has already assigned generals to guard neighbouring senators in the Galactic Senate.”_

Ren spied Ornithos stiffening up next to him, and he patted his hand.

“What's going on over there?”

“ _The civil wars have reached even Da’an Pas itself. The Regent had the Fleet give him special protection, and he's got me keeping an eye on Prince Adder._ ” Met scratched the back of his head. “ _The war began at the outermost regions of the empire, where there's extreme poverty and rampant slave trading. There's been rumours going around that Kalos deals with criminal planets, too, and just recently—_ ” Met cut himself off, his expression growing bitter.

“What's wrong?” Ren asked.

“ _Prince Adder was forced to secure an alliance with Asura._ ”

“Ronsha Zugall,” Ornithos frowned. “Elected representative of Asura, if they had some semblance to a centralised government.” He crossed his arms. “I don't like where this is going.”

“Maybe you can tell us why?” Ren raised an eyebrow at him. Met eyed him expectantly.

“Ronsha is a slave trader.” Ornithos spat the words like they left a bitter taste on his tongue. “He prefers to deal with Pasian slaves. Especially _pets_.”

Ren’s gut turned uncomfortably. Met's frown deepened.

“ _I guess you could say Kalos gave him what he wanted for that alliance._ ” He said quietly.

Ornithos’s eyes widened. “ _Torlak._ ”

A Pasian expletive, Ren finally realised, as he saw anger flare in the redhead’s eyes.

“I'm going to kill him.” He snarled.

“ _Get in line._ ” Met agreed with him, for once. “ _Forcing a young kid to—and his own nephew, no less._ ”

Ren patted Ricki’s controls to reassure her.

“ _That's why I want to help liberate the Pasian empire._ ” Met continued. “ _The rebels want Prince Adder on the throne, in hopes the true royal family could return peace to their land._ ”

“They thought wrong,” Ornithos mumbled, and Ren smacked his side. Met cocked his head at them.

“Adder’s under aged.” Ornithos said instead, and Met glanced at him again. “He should be just sixteen this year.”

“ _... Yeah. It's his birthday next week._ ” Met narrowed his eyes at Ornithos. “ _How are you so intimate with Pasian politics?_ ”

“It's my home planet.” Ornithos replied dryly. “Don't ask about where my wings are.”

Met scowled. “ _Whatever. You must be an escaped convict too, since your wings got cut off._ ”

“Rub it in, why won't you?” Ornithos bit back.

“Boys, behave.” Ren frowned. Ricki giggled.

“ _Well, whatever. Ren. You and Ricki be careful. What's your next step now?_ ”

“We're going to Da’an Pas to get the map. ETA is in half a day. Three hours, if we’re lucky.” Ren checked the display.

“ _... Yeah, alright. Make it here safely, okay? The Regent just left for the Senate so I think I can ask Prince Adder to let you guys in._ ”

“Fat chance.” Ornithos shook his head. “You're talking to Exalted Pirate Minos, here.” He pointed at himself, and Met glowered at him. “You think a prince like him would let a guy like me in there? Hell no.”

“ _Don’t make Prince Adder’s decisions for him—_ ”

Ren opened his mouth to tell them to stop arguing, when they heard the sound of a door slamming open from Met’s side of the transmission. Met himself jolted, turning around to let Ren, Ornithos and Ricki see Pasian guards bursting into the room.

“ _What’s going on here?_ ” Met demanded, but they pushed past him. “ _Hey!_ ”

“ _Where is His Highness Prince Adder?_ ” One of them barked at him, and Met’s brow furrowed in confusion. Somewhere behind him, curtains fluttered, and someone stepped into the room.

“ _What is it._ ” Adder’s tone was clipped, more demanding than questioning, and Ren and Ricki _froze_.

That voice… was _Ian’s_. But it was cold and _nothing_ like the kindness they were used to.

The guards swarmed Adder, presumably, from the sound of clanking armour.

“ _Crown Prince Adder, by the order of the Regent of Da’an Pas, you are charged with treason against the crown and face the sentence of execution._ ”

The transmission suddenly cut off, and Ren and Ornithos gaped at each other.

“That was…”

Ren’s expression tightened, as he gripped Ricki’s controls. “I’m flooring the acceleration.” He declared, “We _can’t_ let Prince Adder die. If we lose him—we can kiss Neverwhere goodbye.”


End file.
